wrartb  -ROBIN 


*  RACHELS  SHARE 

M>  irv 


OF  THE 


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A   NAMELESS    NOBLEMAN. 

A  romance  of  ancient  New  England  and  France.  The  Hartford  Courant  says, 
"  The  author  has  preserved  for  us  in  it  the  odors  of  both  the  rose  of  Provence  and  the  may- 
flower  of  New  England." 

A    LESSON    IN    LOVE. 

A  brilliant  story  of  modern  society  in  New  York.  The  Alliance  calls  it  "  the  novel  of 
the  year." 

THE  GEORGIANS. 

A  powerful  study  of  Southern  character.  "  We  think  this  book  very  close  upon  Haw- 
thorne s  best  effort.  .  .  .  The  grand  and  profound  climax  of  the  story  fingers  in  the  mind 
like  the  story  of  Hester  Prynne." 

PATTY'S   PERVERSITIES. 

•;  A  charming  story  of  quiet  New-England  life."  Nora  Perry  says,  "It  is  the  most 
original  story  that  has  appeared  for  years." 

HOMOSELLE. 

A  picture  of  Virginia  plantation  life  under  the  old  rlgime.  The  style  is  pure  and  ele- 
gant, abounding  in  touches  of  pathos  and  poetry.  "  The  book  would  not  be  out  of  place 
next  to  '  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin.' "—  Lite r ary  World. 

DAMEN'S   GHOST. 

A  story  of  contemporary  life  in  New  York.  "  Deserves  to  be  ranked  with  the  character 
painting  of  Dickens.'*  —  Philadelphia  Press. 

ROSEMARY  AND   RUE. 

A  romance  of  France  and  America  at  the  time  of  the  Revolution.  The  Literary 
World  says,  Its  manner  is  cultivated,  delicate,  and  every  way  beautifiil.  It  is  full  of 
tenderness  and  sweetness;  it  is  fragrant  with  all  filial  and  marital  virtues;  it  is  more  than  a 
novel;  it  is  a  novelty." 

MADAME   LUCAS. 

Life  and  society  in  St.  Louis.  "  It  is  pretty  in  every  way."-  Boston  Budget  The 
Crtttc  says:  "A  very  charming  bit  of  work,  from  an  author  evidently  of much  cultivt 
ban  .who  has  probably  travelled  a  good  deal  between  Canada  and  St.  Petersburg  Amone 
familiar  names,  it  would  seem  easiest  to  ascribe  the  book  to  Annie  Howells  Frechette^ 


JAMES  R.  OSGOOD  &  CO.,  211  TREMONT  ST.,  BOSTON. 


^NY_TUfl/V 


A  TALLAHASSEE   GIRL. 

"  It  is  almost  a  perfect  piece  of  work,  —  light,  airy,  graceful,  tender,  sympathetic,  genu- 
ine, and  impartial."  —  Atlanta  Constitution. 

DOROTHEA. 

A  QUAINT  AND  DELIGHTFUL  STORY  OF  PHILADELPHIA,  AT  THE  TIME  OF  THE  CENTENNIAL. 

"  The  story  of  it  all  is  told  with  a  brightness  and  cleverness  which  at  times  almost  flash 
into  brilliancy,  and  the  book  is  one  to  fill  out  a  leisure  hour  very  pleasantly."  —  Literary 
World. 

THE   DESMOND    HUNDRED. 

BY  THE  AUTHOR  OF  "A  NAMELESS  NOBLEMAN." 

"  The  strongest  American  novel  that  has  been  produced  in  many  a  year,  and  by  far  the 
best  of  the  present  season.  "  —  The  Churchman. 

LEONE. 

"  If  the  intent  of  the  author  was  to  write  what  should  have  above  all  qualities  that  of 
interest,  he  has  ably  fulfilled  his  purpose;  for  its  interest  starts  in  the  first  pages,  and  is 
fanned  with  unremitting  zeal  to  the  last  ones,  where  the  reader  rises  perfectly  satisfied  with 
the  generous  measure.  The  book  is  finely  planned,  and  there  is  considerable  art  in  working 
the  plot,  which  stands  high  in  relief."  —  Boston  Globe. 

DOCTOR   BEN. 

An  original  and  striking  novel,  with  a  charming  and  romantic  love-story,  and  treating 
skilfully  and  sympathetically  on  the  vexed  question  of  "  mininstering  to  a  mind  diseased." 


JAMES  R.  OSGOOD  &  COMPANY, 

CLARKE&CARRUTH,!       2M    TREMONT   STREET,   BOSTON. 


ROUND -ROBIN  SERIES 


Rachels  Share  of  the  Road 


BOSTON 

JAMES   R.  OSGOOD   AND   COMPANY 
1882 


COPYRIGHT,  1882, 
BY  JAMES  R.  OSGOOD  AND  COMPANY. 


All  rights  reserved. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.   HEADS  HAVE  IT 5 

II.   A  DAY  LOANED 28 

III.  INTERWEAVING  THREADS      ....  52 

IV.  THE  DOCTOR'S  HOLIDAY      .        .        .  75 
V.   NOT  WHOLLY  SATISFACTORY  100 

VI.   QUARRELLING  WITH  BREAD  AND  BUTTER  117 

VII.   IN  THE  SAME  BOAT 142 

VIII.   A  TALE  UNTOLD 158 

IX.    HERBS  AND  PROPHECIES       ....  180 

X.   Two  STRONG  HANDS 197 

XI.  A  FAN  AND  A  FACE 212 

XII.   A  WOMAN'S  IMPULSE 243 

XIII.  AWAY  IN  THE  DAWN 269 

XIV.  AWAY  IN  THE  STORM 289 

XV.  WHERE  TWO  ROADS  MEET   ....  303 

XVI.   "To  HAVE  AND  TO  HOLD"         .        .        .  317 


Rachel's  Share  of  the  Road. 


CHAPTER  I. 

HEADS    HAVE    IT. 

TT^ROM  the  east,  along  the  narrow  iron  road 
•*•  that  cleft  the  hill  and  spanned  the  river, 
rushed  the  morning  train,  and  with  clanging 
bell,  shrieking  whistle  and  heavy,  panting 
breath,  paused  before  an  unpretending  sta- 
tion. 

"  Craig's  Cross  !  " 

A  very  few  passengers,  gathering  up  wraps 
and  travelling-bags,  left  the  cars;  others 
looked  half  curiously,  half  indifferently,  from 
the  windows  for  a  moment,  and  discovering 
no  object  of  special  interest,  leaned  wearily 

5 


6     RACHEUS  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

back  in  their  seats  again.  But  a  fragment  of 
the  town  was  visible,  and  even  if  fully  seen 
it  would  not  have  attracted  much  attention  — 
a  small  place  whose  chief  importance  centred 
in  the  great  railroad  shops  clustered  there. 

On  the  long  platform  fronting  the  depot 
were  gathered  the  usual  little  knots  of  loun- 
gers who  watched  the  train  with  idle  interest, 
while,  scattered  here  and  there,  were  some 
who  scanned  its  line  of  windows  with  anxious 
faces  —  disappointed  faces  —  as  it  thundered 
away  on  its  course  once  more.  Apart  from  all 
others,  at  a  little  distance  from  the  depot  itself, 
and  hidden  from  the  observation  of  the  group 
on  the  platform,  stood  a  heavy,  shabbily 
dressed  figure  with  one  coarse  hand  resting  on 
the  head  of  an  equally  heavy  and  shabby  dog. 
Not  near  enough  to  distinguish  any  one  who 
entered  or  left  the  carriages,  yet  the  hungry 
eyes  under  the  old  hat  never  swerved  for  an 
instant  from  their  steadfast  watching  until  the 
last  trail  of  smoke  from  the  receding  engine 


HEADS  HA  VE  IT.  7 

had  vanished.  Then  the  man  turned,  not 
toward  the  town,  but  away  from  it,  along  a. 
road  winding  up  the  hill,  until,  reaching  a  tree 
that  extended  its  branches  over  the  sunny, 
dusty  grass,  he  threw  himself  down  beneath 
its  shade. 

"Clingo,  you  don't  know  no  more  nor  I  do." 

The  dog  acknowledged  his  name  by  a  slight 
motion  of  his  tail,  but  looked  gravely  down  the 
road  without  asserting  any  claim  to  superior 
wisdom. 

The  master  pushed  his  hat  back  from  his 
face  —  a  young  face  only  negatively ;  it  was 
not  old  in  years,  but  there  was  no  youthfulness 
about  it  —  rough,  sunburned,  heavy.  He 
drew  his  sleeve  across  his  damp  forehead,  and 
turned  his  eyes  —  not  unlike  the  dog's  in  a 
certain  dumb  wistfulness  —  toward  tree,  cloud 
and  wayside  as  if  seeking  counsel. 

"  Don't  know  if  he's  come ;  s'pose  'taint  no 
use  noway,"  he  muttered,  plucking  at  a  long 
withe  of  grass  with  an  odd  nervousness  in  the 


8          RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

great,  hard,  red  hand  that  was  only  strong, 
not  quick  nor  skilful.  :  'Taint  likely  he'd 
listen.  Don't  know  whether  I'll  say  nothin'  if 

I  see  him  a-comin'.     Wonder  if"  — 

The  sentence  was  left  unfinished  in  a  slowly 
dawning  suggestion.  He  drew  a  solitary  cop- 
per from  his  pocket  and  poised  it  on  one  broad 
finger. 

"We'll  toss  up  for't,  Clingo.  Heads,  we 
tries  it ;  tails,  we  don't." 

The  coin  went  spinning  into  the  air,  and 
dropped  at  his  feet.  Clingo  arose  and  sol- 
emnly sniffed  at  it ;  then  his  master  examined 
it. 

"Heads  — wonst!" 

Again  the  bit  of  copper  whirled  and  fell. 

"Heads  —  twicet!" 

"Heads  —  three  times.  Heads  has  it." 
And  returning  the  cent  to  its  place,  he  leaned 
back  against  the  tree  and  waited. 

Up  on  the  hill,  in  a  great  pleasant  old  house 
lying  in  roomy,  solid  comfort  behind  its  old- 


HEADS  HA  VE  IT.  9 

fashioned  garden  of  terraces  and  quaint  arbors 
of  clambering  roses  and  nodding  tiger-lilies, 
another  also  waited.  All  the  view  down  the 
slope  and  away  to  the  distant  hills  and  river 
was  loveliness  in  the  bright  morning  light,  but 
the  gray  eyes  at  the  window  for  once  looked 
straight  through  the  beauty  as  scarcely  seeing 
it,  and  watched  only  for  a  carriage  on  the 
winding  road.  A  tiny  clock  in  the  spacious 
room  told  the  minutes,  lessening  one  by  one 
the  number  of  those  that  held  any  expectation 
in  them,  and  Rachel,  noting  their  flight,  sighed 
a  little  anxiously,  but  more  wearily. 
"  He  isn't  coming  this  morning  ! " 
Doubtless  the  same  thought,  concerning  the 
same  individual,  found  expression  in  many  dif- 
ferent voices,  with  various  intonations  of  sor- 
row, vexation  or  disappointment,  as  that  morn- 
ing hour  passed  ;  for  Judge  Lyndal,  president 
of  the  road,  was  invariably  wanted  at  one  end 
of  the  line  when  he  was  at  the  other.  It  had 
often  amused  Rachel  —  the  stream  of  inquiries 


10         RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

made  for  him  in  his  frequent  absences.  Anx- 
ious contractors,  eager  place-seekers,  per- 
plexed office-men,  all  wanting  to  know  when 
the  Judge  would  come  home.  "As  if  he  were 
like  the  sun,  and  nothing  were  left  for  one  half 
the  world  but  waiting  and  darkness  when  he 
visited  the  other  half,"  she  laughingly  said. 

She  remembered  them  this  morning,  finding 
herself  among  the  waiting  ones  —  though  her 
disappointment  involved  only  the  postponement 
of  a  pleasant  trip,  planned  chiefly  for  the  sake 
of  the  cousins  who  were  to  accompany  her. 
They  had  wished  to  start  that  morning,  but 
Rachel  could  not  well  go  until  her  father  re- 
turned. All  the  previous  day  they  had  ex- 
pected him,  and  he  had  not  arrived  yet.  It 
was  very  annoying  —  not  that  she  cared  so 
much  for  the  excursion  beyond  the  feeling, 
scarcely  admitted  to  her  own  consciousness, 
that  jaunting  with  Nan  and  Heman  might  be 
a  little  less  tiresome  than  staying  at  home  with 


HEADS  HAVE  IT.  II 

them.     After  the  first  week  their  visiting  to- 
gether always  grew  somewhat  laborious. 

Perhaps  it  was  only  Rachel  who  found  it  so 
—  "an  odd,  old-fashioned  little  thing,  suiting 
exactly  the  old  house  and  grounds,"  Nan  said 
of  her,  so  disposing,  with  calm  superiority,  of 
all  points  in  their  intercourse  where  the  want 
of  congeniality  revealed  itself.  And  of  these 
Nan  did  not  detect  many.  She  had  no  quick 
ear  for  spiritual  harmonies,  and  seldom  noticed 
the  subtile  jarrings  and  discords  that  so  per- 
plexed and  wearied  Rachel.  In  truth,  Nan 
was  always  too  deeply  absorbed  in  the  rendi- 
tion of  her  own  little  part  to  ever  catch  life's 
music  as  a  whole.  So  she  liked  well  enough 
the  regular  half-yearly  visits  to  her  cousin  and 
the  old  place, — thought  them  the  proper 
thing  for  certain  seasons  of  the  year,  —  though 
she  felt  a  pitying  condemnation  of  Rachel  as 
a  wonder  of  wasted  opportunities.  With  her 
father's  position  and  wealth,  what  place  and 
influence  might  not  be  hers  if  she  did  but 


12        RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

appreciate  her  advantages.  "It  is  a  positive 
duty  to  make  the  most  of  what  one  has,"  said 
Nan  —  a  favorite  axiom,  repeated  quite  as 
impressively  when  she  discussed  the  remodel- 
ling of  a  gown  as  when  she  spoke  of  a  life. 

"  Only  there  is  always  the  question  of  what 
is  '  the  most,' "  Rachel  answered,  with  that 
sudden  deepening  of  her  gray  eyes  that 
Annice  Lisle  could  not  understand. 

A  twofold  life,  a  twofold  personality,  her 
own  sometimes  seemed  to  the  young  girl,  in 
which  "  most  "  or  best  was  not  always  clearly 
discernible.  In  the  city,  with  her  father's 
friends,  she  had  been,  or  seemed  to  herself, 
only  a  gay  young  girl,  as  gloriously  appar- 
elled as  the  lilies,  and  far  more  useless  than 
they,  perhaps,  but  content  to  enjoy  her  sur- 
roundings, and  a  certain  reflected  honor  and 
importance.  She  had  thought  and  talked, 
with  a  little  harmless,  girlish  complacency,  of 
"our  road."  It  had  meant  to  her  only  a  high 
position  of  responsibility  and  honor  for  her 


HEADS  HAVE  IT.  13 

father,  —  deserved,  of  course,  —  gay  parties 
made  up  for  trial  trips  with  new  engines  and 
palace  cars,  and  a  pleasant  sense  of  proprietor- 
ship in  it  all ;  unbounded  courtesy  and  atten- 
tion to  herself  whenever  she  chose  to  travel  up 
or  down  the  line. 

But  here,  in  the  still,  grand  old  home,  a 
deeper  meaning  seemed  to  underlie  many 
things.  Do  souls  grow,  like  their  natural  sur- 
roundings? Almost  it  seemed  as  if  into 
Rachel's,  something  of  the  strength  and  brave 
upreaching  of  the  hills  were  passing ;  some- 
thing of  the  steady  onward  sweep  of  the  river 
looking  out  from  her  eyes.  Here,  in  the 
quiet  of  hills  and  river,  the  narrow  iron  road, 
stretching  so  endlessly  away,  wore  a  harder, 
sterner  aspect,  and  held  strange  suggestions, 
sometimes,  of  those  to  whom  it  represented  a 
dreary  and  toilsome  life-track  —  the  weary 
men  who  laid  rail  and  tie,  the  anxious  men  to 
whom  a  place  on  the  swift-rushing  trains  that 
passed  and  repassed  meant  the  earning  of  a 


14         RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

livelihood  for  themselves  and  their  dear  ones ; 
and  the  rude  cabins  by  the  roadside,  where  the 
poor  workmen  found  a  shelter  when  the  day's 
pittance  was  earned. 

Rachel  knew  of  all  these.  Some  strange 
acquaintances  Judge  Lyndal's  daughter  had 
made  in  the  long,  unquestioned  rambles  per- 
mitted to  her  lonely,  motherless  childhood. 
She  had  known  of  them  without  thinking 
much,  however,  until  of  late ;  but  there  was 
ample  space  and  leisure  for  thought  in  that 
quiet,  roomy  house  on  the  hillside,  where 
even  the  vines  swayed  dreamily,  and  the 
rustling  leaves  whispered  of  secrets  long 
kept;  where  the  life  seemed  to  have  grown 
even  stiller  and  more  uneventful  than  of  old, 
from  its  contrast  with  the  city  months. 

The  sedate  old  walls  entertained  but  little 
company.  Rachel's  stately,  invalid  grand- 
mother, the  nominal  mistress  of  the  place,  had 
neither  inclination  nor  strength  for  society ; 
and  her  wish  for  seclusion,  together  with  the 


HEADS  HA  VE  IT.  15 

Judge's  frequent  absences,  would  have  ren- 
dered the  gathering  of  any  large  circle  about 
her  there  impracticable  to  Rachel,  if  she  had 
wished  it.  But,  accustomed  to  the  existing 
order  as  she  had  been  from  her  childhood, 
she  did  not  even  think  of  having  it  otherwise. 
So  she  saw  few  but  passing  guests  —  grave, 
business-like  men  who  talked  with  her  father 
of  "  bonds,"  "  stocks  "  and  "  dividends  "  —  save 
when  Nan  and  Heman  came.  Their  visits 
had  occurred  simultaneously  the  last  two  or 
three  seasons. 

"I  am  very  sorry  we  are  disappointed,"  said 
the  young  hostess,  the  pressure  of  entertaining 
the  two  arousing  her  from  the  reverie  into 
which  she  was  falling  while  her  eyes  scanned 
the  road.  "He  could  not  have  been  on  this 
morning's  train.  I  fear  we  must  wait  another 
day." 

"Well,  if  we  cannot  do  what  we  expected, 
we  must  try  to  plan  something  else  equally 
pleasant — and  profitable,"  responded  Heman, 


1 6    RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

with  cheerful  resignation  in  his  carefully  mod- 
ulated tones,  but  with  an  air  of  being  all  ready 
to  have  something  planned  for  him  instead. 
"  These  bright  hours  are  far  too  valuable  to  be 
wasted  in  mere  regret." 

Rachel  felt  a  mischievous  inclination  to 
inquire  from  which  of  his  six  sermons  writ- 
ten, or  six  hundred  yet  to  be  written,  he  had 
extracted  that  edifying  platitude  ;  but,  discover- 
ing Nan's  glance  of  admiring  appreciation,  she 
restrained  the  impulse.  Their  cousinly  rela- 
tion to  Rachel  did  not  extend  to  each  other, 
but  there  was  manifest,  in  these  later  visits,  a 
stronger  bond  between  them  than  that  of  kin- 
ship. 

The  sun  that  smiled  upon  the  nodding  lilies 
and  sleepy  poppies  of  the  garden  that  morn- 
ing beat  hot  and  bright  upon  the  dry  and 
dusty  road  with  its  border  of  soiled  and  tired- 
looking  daisies,  and  an  old  woman  who  was 
making  the  ascent  with  resolute  step  assured 
herself  audibly  now  and  then  : 


HEADS  HAVE  IT.  l*J 

"It's  proper  warm,  I  tell  ye  ! " 

Her  dress  of  faded  calico  was  short  and 
scant,  while  her  antiquated  black  bonnet, 
pushed  far  enough  back  from  her  heated  face 
to  show  a  rim  of  rough  gray  hair,  was  the 
worse  for  many  a  bruise  and  dent.  One 
hand,  purple  as  berry  stains  could  make  it, 
grasped  the  handle  of  her  gray  cotton  parasol, 
while  the  other  carried  a  large  basket  of  fruit 
covered  carefully  with  green  leaves.  As  she 
neared  the  great  tree  by  the  roadside  a  voice 
stopped  her : 

"Say,  do  you  know  if  the  Judge  has  got 
home?" 

"No,  I  don't.  If  ye  want  anj^thing  of  him 
it's  more'n  likely  he  hain't,"  answered  the  old 
woman,  putting  down  her  basket  and  turning 
squarely  about  to  view  her  questioner.  "Do 
ye  know  what  that  man  makes  me  think  of? 
—  a  spider.  'Cause  all  these  railroad  lines  is 
stretched  here  and  there  like  a  great  web,  and 
folks  twisted  into  'em  and  wrigglin'  about,  one 


1 8         RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

way  or  'nother ;  but  when  ye  want  to  find  the 
big  bug  that  spins  'em  all,  why,  he's  hid  away 
out  of  sight  —  weavin'  and  weavin'  some- 
wheres,  I'll  warrant !  " 

The  man  under  the  tree  did  not  appear  to 
comprehend ;  he  only  looked  up  dully,  and 
the  old  woman  took  her  basket  again. 

"Well,  I'm  going  right  there,  and  I  can  ask 
whether  he's  come,  if  it'll  be  any  sort  of  com- 
fort to  ye,"  she  said. 

A  touch  of  eagerness  betrayed  itself  in  the 
heavy  face  then. 

"  Yes'm.     Wish  you  would." 

The  woman  trudged  on  again.  Reaching 
the  garden  gate  she  turned  aside  and  walked 
up  the  gravelled  path,  with  never  a  glance  for 
the  flowers,  across  the  veranda,  and,  catching 
sight  of  the  form  at  the  window,  straight  into 
the  cool,  shadowy  room  where  Rachel  sat. 
There,  dropping  into  an  easy  chair,  she 
deposited  her  basket  beside  her,  pushed  her 


HEADS  HAVE  IT.  19 

% 

battered  bonnet  a  little  farther  back,  and 
began  rocking  vigorously  to  and  fro. 

"Good  morning,  Mrs.  Shackles,"  said 
Rachel,  undismayed,  while  Nan  looked  dig- 
nified but  undisguised  disapproval. 

"  Mornin',  child,  —  dear  knows  about  the 
good  !  All  out  doors  is  a-blisterin'  and  a-br'il- 
in',  and  here  you  set  loo.kin'  as  calm  and  com- 
for'able  as  a  pond-lily  with  nothin'  but  its  head 
out  of  water.  It  does  'pear  's  if  some  folks  was 
jest  made  to  set  and  look  aggravatin'  in  shad- 
dery  places,  while  other  folks  travels  by  in 
the  glare  and  dust.  Want  to  buy  any  huckle- 
berries? Only  five  cents  a  quart,  and  I 
picked  'em  fresh  this  mornin'  — up  afore  day- 
break." 

She  of  the  sheltered,  shady  nook  had  a 
tender  spot  in  her  heart  for  those  of  the  rough 
highway.  Moreover,  this  was  an  old  acquain- 
tance—  one  of  the  odd  delights  of  her  child- 
hood. The  stained,  scratched  hands  and  the 
gray  hair  held  in  them  a  mighty  appeal  to 


20         RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD, 

her;  so  she  wanted  "huckleberries"  now, 
just  as  she  had  wanted  raspberries  earlier, 
and  would  be  sure  to  want  sassafras  later. 
They  were  sent  out  to  the  kitchen,  measured 
and  paid  for,  but  the  old  woman  sat  still,  rest- 
ing and  moralizing,  while  her  wandering  eyes 
scanned  every  article  in  the  room,  not  except- 
ing, nor  abashed  by,  the  gentleman  and  lady 
who  were  strangers  to  her. 

"  Yes'm,  huckleberries  and  milk  is  partic'lar 
good  —  'specially  if  ye  has  the  milk;  some 
folks  hain't.  That's  what  I  tell  Humphrey 
when  he  says  why  don't  we  have  bread  and 
milk  and  huckleberries,  seein'  I'm  pickin'  so 
many  of  'em.  He's  al'ays  sayin',  'Ask  some- 
body for't;'  but  I  ain't  no  hand  at  beggin'. 
Ho !  hum !  Mebby  I'd  get  along  better  if  I 
was." 

"  Oh,  I  think  Peggy  can  give  you  a  pail  of 
milk  if  you  would  like  it,"  said  Rachel 
cheerily. 

"  Dear !  now  that's  proper  good  ;  but  la  !  I 


HEADS  HA  VE  IT.  21 

hain't  got  no  pail  to  put  it  in.  I've  been 
wishin'  I  had  one  this  long  time,  'cause  'twould 
come  so  handy ;  and  Humphrey  says,  '  Why 
don't  you  ask  some  of  them  folks  what's  got 
more'n  they  want?'  But  I  tells  him, 'Hum- 
phrey Shackles,  I  never  did  beg  afore  I 
married  ye,  and  I  ain't  a-goin'  to  begin  now, 
if  I  work  my  fingers  off.'  So  I  hain't  got  no 
pail,  and  no  prospeck  of  gettin'  none.' 

"  No  matter ;  I'll  ask  Peggy  to  put  the  milk 
in  one  that  you  needn't  return,"  laughed 
Rachel. 

"  Thank  ye  ;  that'll  be  a  comfort  — jest  will. 
Must  be  nice  to  have  plenty  so's  you  can  give 
away  to  the  poor  and  deservin',  ain't  it  now? 
That's  what  I  told  Mrs.  Reeves  'tother  day, 
when  she  give  me  a  wash-tub  ;  though  sakes  ! 
'twant  no  use  'thout  a  wash-board,  and  she 
never  seemed  to  think  of  that.  'Course  I 
couldn't  ask  her,  'cause  I  don't  b'lieve  in  beg- 
gin',  and  so  it  lays  'round." 

Rachel  tried  to  keep  the  sparkle  of  fun  from 


22         RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

her  eyes,  while  she  wondered  what  was  next 
on  the  list;  but  Heman  Weldon  could  no 
longer  restrain  the  mild  exhortation  which  he 
thought  the  occasion  demanded. 

"My  cousin  follows  only  her  own  kindly 
impulses  in  this  quiet  place ;  but  she  would 
soon  discover  such  encouragement  to  be  not 
beneficial,  but  positively  injurious,  if  she  had 
a  parish  on  her  hands,"  he  said,  with  a  signi- 
ficant, reproving  glance  as  he  passed  from  the 
room. 

He  had  not  expected  Mrs.  Shackles  to  com- 
prehend the  remark,  but  she  gleaned  some- 
thing of  his  meaning,  and  her  sharp  eyes  fol- 
lowed him. 

"  What  does  the  young  man  expect  to  have 
on  his  hands  ?  "  she  questioned.  "  Nothin'  but 
what  he  can  wash  off  eas}7,  by  the  looks  of 
'em." 

Rachel  bit  her  lips. 

"  He  was  talking  of  city  work.  My  cousin 
intends  to  be  a  minister.  Mrs.  Shackles." 


HEADS  HA  VE  IT.  23 

"Preacher?  Oh,  well,  there's  some  kinds 
of  preachers  —  and  then  there's  other  kinds," 
said  the  old  woman,  not  quite  satisfied. 
"Dear  me,  some  preach  one  thing,  and  some 
another." 

"  But  truth  is  always  truth.  Heman  will 
preach  that  "  —  Rachel  began  the  latter  sen- 
tence to  herself  rather  than  to  either  of  her 
auditors,  and,  recollecting  them,  suddenly 
paused. 

"Yes,  truth's  always  truth.  Same  way 
apples  is  always  apples,  but  the  dried  ones 
ain't  very  satisfyin'  to  most  folks,  nor  partic'lar 
wholesome  either,  as  I  know  of,"  responded 
Mrs.  Shackles,  nodding  her  head  by  way  of 
emphasis.  Then  her  eyes  wandered  around  the 
room  again,  rested  meditatively  on  a  bracket, 
and  she  took  up  her  former  line  of  remark. 

"Yes,  there's  lots  of  things  I  need  —  frocks 
and  shoes  and  sich.  But  nobody  don't  know 
about  it,  and  never  will  by  my  tellin',  so  I 
s'pose  I  shan't  get  none." 


24    RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD, 

Rachel  had  grown  suddenly  obtuse,  and 
inquired  after  Humphrey  —  where  he  was, 
and  what  he  was  doing. 

"  Outside  somewheres  :  down  at  the  foot  of 
the  hill,  a-hangin'  round  and  waitin' ;  and  I 
can't  tell  ye  what  for,  'cause  I  don't  know. 
He  come  along  a-ways  to-day,  and  I  give  him 
the  basket  to  fetch,  seein'  I'd  been  out  so  long 
a-pickin'.  But  he  didn't  carry  it  no  time  afore 
it  give  him  the  cramp  in  his  left  hand,  and 
d'rectly  it  brought  a  touch  of  rheumatiz  to  his 
right  hand,  and  pretty  soon  he  set  down. 
'  And  now  I  s'pose  you've  got  the  dumb  ager 
in  both  feet  ?  '  says  I ;  and  he  'lowed  mebby 
he  had.  So  I  come  on ;  and  it's  likely  he's 
settin'  there  yet.  If  there  ever  was  a  body 
good  for  nothin'  it's  Humphrey  Shackles. 
He  spunks  up  now  and  then  when  I  tell  him 
so,  and  says  he'll  do  somethin'  desp'ate  yet, 
when  he  gets  screwed  up  to  the  stickin'  p'int. 
And  I  says,  '  Humphrey  Shackles,  you'll 
never  get  screwed  to  that  p'int  while  there's  a 


HEADS  HA  VE  IT.  25 

breath  of  life  in  ye  '  —  and  no  more  he  won't. 
Well,  I  must  be  goin'.  I'm  'bliged  to  ye  for 
the  pail  and  wash-board." 

"Milk,"  corrected  Rachel. 

"Oh,  yes,  milk.  I'm  real  glad  you 
thought  on't.  I  don't  mind  takin'  things  when 
anybody  gives  'em ;  but  I  won't  beg,  so  I 
s'pose  I'll  never  get  no  shoes  and  gowns  and 
sich,  bad  as  I  need  'em,  'cause,  you  see,  no- 
body don't  know." 

She  drew  her  old  bonnet  further  over  her 
head,  while  her  eyes  sought  Rachel's  face 
with  a  curious  sidelong  glance  to  mark  the 
effect  of  this  last  carefully  aimed  hint.  It 
seemed  to  have  glanced  off  harmlessly,  and 
she  took  up  her  basket  with  a  sigh.  Then, 
with  a  sudden  thought  of  the  stranger  under 
the  tree,  she  turned  again. 

"S'pose  the  Judge  ain't  home  now?" 

"No,"  Rachel  answered.  "We  expected 
him,  but  he  did  not  come." 

Which  information  Mrs.  Shackles  repeated 


26      RACHEL: s  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

when  she  had  passed  half  way  down  the 
road. 

"  They  looked  for  him  and  he  didn't  come. 
Everybody's  al'ays  lookin'  for  him  when  he 
don't  come.  It's  what  he's  made  for,  likely. 
But  see  here,  if  you  want  anything  of  him  you 
might  as  well  ask  her,"  indicating  by  a  back- 
ward motion  of  one  stained  hand  the  house  she 
had  left. 

"Her?"  echoed  the  man  uncomprehend- 
ingly. 

"  His  darter.  I  ain't  any  hand  at  beggin' 
myself,  but  if  I  wanted  anything  I'd  ask  her," 
explained  Mrs.  Shackles. 

"  I  ain't  a  beggar ! "  A  flash  of  anger 
kindled  the  heavy  eyes  for  an  instant.  "It's 
only  work  I  want.  The  folks  has  got  to  live 
—  Hitty  and  the  children.  I  promised  Meg 
I'd  take  care  of  the  children ;  but  it's  been 
tough  work.  I  thought  I  could  get  something 
in  the  shops  here,  but  one  says  one  thing,  and 
another  says  another;  and  there's  so  many, 


HEADS  HA  VE  IT.  27 

and  I  hain't  got  no  recommend  from  nobody. 
The  Judge,  he  seems  the  topmost,  and  I 
thought  mebby  if  I  could  ask  the  powerfullest" 
—  said  the  unconscious  St.  Christoper  slowly 
rising. 

"  Might  as  well  ask  her,"  interposed  Mrs. 
Shackles. 

"Mebby.  Don't  know  if  it's  any  use  no- 
ways ;  but  we're  bound  to  try  'count  of  the 
luck  turnin'  so,  hey,  Clingo?  Heads  has  it." 

"  'Course.  Heads  al'ays  has  it,"  muttered 
Mrs.  Shackles  uncomprehendingly.  "But 
me  and  you  ain't  heads,  nor  never  will  be, 
unless  it's  in  that  queer  time  comin'  we're  told 
about,  when  the  last'll  be  first."  And  with  a 
final  hitch  to  her  basket  she  went  on  down  the 
road  to  meet  Humphrey,  while  the  man  and 
dog  began  slowly  to  ascend  by  the  way  she 
had  come. 


CHAPTER  II. 

A  DAY  LOANED. 

"TV  /|"Y  dear  child ! "  expostulated  Annice 
•J-*-*-  Lisle  as  the  old  berry- woman  disap- 
peared from  the  veranda.  Nan  was  two  years 
older  and  two  inches  taller  than  her  cousin, 
which  prove  conclusively  her  superior  wisdom 
and  experience,  and  enabled  her  always  to 
feel  that  she  spoke  from  a  slight  eminence. 
"How  absurd  of  you  to  indulge  such  a  char- 
acter as  that !  and  to  tolerate  her  manner, 
which  was  almost  —  excuse  me,  my  dear  — 
neighborly '." 

Rachel  laughed.  Under  the  laugh  arose 
an  old  question  —  "Who  is  my  neighbor?" 
But  she  did  not  utter  it.  Nan  would  have 
considered  it  either  irrelevant  or  irreverent. 
A  step  on  the  stair  interrupted  them.  Dr. 

28 


A  DAT  LOANED.  29 

Kelsey  was  coming  down  from  a  call  upon 
old  Mrs.  Lyndal.  A  venerable,  gray-haired 
physician,  the  oldest  in  the  place,  attended 
her  usually ;  Dr.  Kelsey  only  occasionally, 
when  his  senior  was  ill  or  absent.  He  bowed 
to  both  ladies,  though  he  seemed  to  see  only 
Rachel,  as  he  passed  through  the  wide  hall. 
On  the  veranda,  his  gaze  swept  the  garden ; 
he  paused  and  glanced  again  toward  the  open 
window. 

"Miss  Lyndal,  if  you  cared  to  send  some 
of  those  blossoms  on  a  mission  this  morning, 
I  am  going  where  they  would  be  prized  — 
where  such  things  are  rare." 

"  Surely  !  I  am  glad  you  told  me,"  was  the 
swift  reply.  She  hastened  to  the  door,  then 
paused. 

"Nan,  will  you  come?" 

A  subtile  hope,  whose  springs  she  did  not 
analyze,  that  Miss  Lisle  might  deem  the  sun- 
shiny garden  too  warm,  was  disappointed. 
Nan,  indeed,  never  grew  warm  and  flushed 


30        RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

and  hurried  as  Rachel  did,  and  when,  in  a 
moment,  she  appeared  on  the  walk  she  was 
cool,  calm  elegance  personified. 

-f 

"  If  you  are  at  leisure  ?  "  —  began  Dr.  Kel- 
sey,  as  if  in  half  apology  for  his  request. 

"Only  too  much  so,"  laughed  Rachel.  "A 
plan  disappointed  this  morning  has  left  me  a 
day,  and  I  do  not  know  what  to  do  with  it." 

"  What  a  pity  you  cannot  lend  it !  So  many 
hurried,  crowded  lives  need  a  little  extra  time," 
the  doctor  answered. 

Possibly  he  was  thinking  of  his  own  as  one 
of  them,  for  he  made  no  politely  sympathetic 
inquiries  concerning  her  frustrated  plans  — 
did  not  seem  to  think  of  them,  indeed,  but  to 
feel  only  a  covetous,  momentary  desire  to 
appropriate  the  spare  hours.  He  caught  her 
glance  and  smiled  at  his  own  earnestness. 

"We  have  so  often  to  prescribe  time  as  a 
remedy  that  it  is  not  wonderful  I  begin  to 
think  of  it  as  a  marketable  article." 

"  Not   exactly  as  a  f  drug   in    the    market,' 


A  DA  T  L  OANED.  3 1 

however?"  questioned  Nan  lightly,  a  trifle 
condescendingly  to  this  "  country  doctor,"  as 
she  mentally  styled  him. 

He  did  not  appear  impressed  by  her  gra- 
ciousness,  however,  answering  only  by  a  quiet 
smile,  as  if  the  remark  naturally  called  for 
nothing  more,  and  bestowing  his  full  attention 
upon  the  flowers  Rachel  was  selecting  —  cut- 
ting swiftly  and  dexterously  the  stems  she 
touched  —  his  hand,  white  and  well-shaped, 
but  large,  strong  and  steady,  contrasting 
oddly  with  her  slender,  fluttering  fingers. 
Something  in  his  face,  manly  and  strong 
rather  than  handsome,  —  a  certain  searching 
earnestness  in  the  clear  eyes,  as  if  they  had  a 
fashion  of  looking  through  externals  straight 
to  the  heart  of  things, — interested  while  it 
piqued  Nan.  She  became  doubly  gracious, 
and  bestowed  upon  him,  for  a  little  time,  her 
most  delicate  flattery  of  attention  and  enter- 
taining remark. 

But  though  he  listened  appreciatively,  evi- 


32        RACHEUS  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

dently  enjoying  the  hour,  the  view  from  the 
hillside,  and  his  companionship,  he  did  not 
linger.  And  when,  seeing  his  glance  follow 
for  an  instant  the  sweep  of  hill  and  river,  she 
asked  his  opinion  —  a  question  in  which  a 
little  malice  mingled  with  some  vanity  —  of 
the  relative  beauty  of  this  scenery  and  various 
views  in  foreign  lands,  he  answered  with  quiet 
honesty,  — 

"I  cannot  tell,  Miss  Lisle.  I  have  seen 
much  of  our  own  country  in  a  sort  of  rough 
knocking  about,  scarcely  to  be  dignified  as 
travelling,  but  I  have  never  been  abroad; 
probably  shall  never  have  that  pleasure  until 
I  have  attained  old  age,  wealth  and  useless- 
ness  at  home,"  concluding  his  sentence  with  a 
laugh,  not  unabashed  by,  but  simply  uncon- 
scious of,  the  superiority  of  the  presence  in 
which  he  stood. 

The  flowers  gathered,  he  took  his  leave 
hastily,  and  mounted  the  horse  awaiting  him 
at  the  gate,  pausing  a  moment,  however,  to 


A  DAT  LOANED.  33 

select  a  choice  rose-bud  from  his  treasures  and 
fasten  it  in  his  button-hole. 

"Cool!"  commented  Nan,  observing  the 
movement. 

Rachel  flushed,  and  answered  with  a  slight 
embarrassed  laugh,  — 

"A  precautionary  measure  for  his  health, 
perhaps  ;  roses  may  be  disinfectants.  Merely 
professional,  — like  his  steady  way  of  looking 
at  one." 

"Looking  at  one  is  a  very  correct  way  of 
stating  it.  He  certainly  did  not  look  at  more 
than  one,"  replied  Nan  loftily,  turning  toward 
the  house. 

Rachel  loitered  a  little,  watching  the  swiftly 
receding  horseman,  and  so  became  conscious, 
a  moment  later,  of  a  figure  outside  the  wall. 
A  head  surmounted  by  a  dilapidated  hat  ap- 
peared above  the  gate,  and  its  owner  called, 
rather  hesitatingly  and  huskily, — 

"  Marm  !     If  you  please,  marm  !  " 

Rachel   advanced  a  few  steps,  but  stopped 


34    RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

in  alarm  as  a  pair  of  shaggy  paws  were  placed 
on  the  rail,  and  a  huge  canine  head  also  ap- 
peared above  the  gate. 

"He  won't  bite,  marm.  Down,  Clingo, 
down  ! " 

"Do  you  wish  to  see  any  one?  What  is 
wanted?"  inquired  Rachel,  questioning  men- 
tally whether  the  intruder  were  tramp  or  beg- 
gar, or  might  possibly  have  a  legitimate  busi- 
ness errand. 

"If  I  could  speak  to  you  a  minute,  marm  — 
I  s'pose  the  Judge  ain't  home  ?  " 

"No,"  she  replied,  going  a  little  nearer. 
Those  words,  in  one  form  or  another,  were  so 
familiar,  and  the  voice,  despite  its  roughness, 
had  a  touch  of  entreaty.  "  He  is  not  at  home. 
Probably  he  will  come  this  evening,  though  I 
could  not  promise  it  positively." 

"  I  don't  know  whether  it's  any  use  if  he 
was  —  s'pose  mebby  'tain't ;  but  then  the  luck 
turned  so,  and  I'm  in  powerful  need  of 
work  "  — 


A  DAT  LOANED.  35 

"  Work  ?"  repeated  the  young  lady,  catch- 
ing through  that  word  a  clue  to  his  meaning. 
"You  want  work,  then?" 

"Work  in  the  railroad  shops  or  yards,  or 
anywheres,  marm.  I  don't  s'pose  the  Judge 
'tends  to  that  sort  of  thing  himself,  and  mebby 
'twasn't  no  use  to  come ;  but  there's  so  many, 
and  one  says  one  thing,  and  another  says 
another,  —  that  'tain't  no  use  to  go  to  this  place 
till  I've  been  t'other  place,  and  no  use  to  ask 
this  one  till  I've  seen  that  one,  —  till  I'm  clean 
mixed  up.  And  then  there's  so  many  want 
places.  Sometimes  it  seems  's  if  this  world 
had  got  crowded  so  chock  full  there  wasn't  no 
room  for  a  feller  noways." 

A  slight  breeze  swept  through  the  garden, 
rustling  the  leaves  and  bending  the  blossoms, 
and  the  man  at  the  gate  bared  his  head  to  the 
cool,  refreshing  breath,  revealing  a  shock  of 
light  hair  burned  and  faded  by  the  sun  and 
wind,  while  he  nervously  twisted  the  old  hat 
in  his  fingers. 


3^        RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

w  I  hain't  got  no  recommend  —  don't  know 
nobody  here,  you  see.  Most  folks  sort  o' 
belong  to  somebody,  and  that  keeps  'em 
along ;  but  I  don't  seem  to,  and  I  get  most 
tired  tryin'.  I  heard  'em  sayin'  round  the 
shops  — '  If  the  Judge  gets  back,'  and  '  When 
the  Judge  comes  home ; '  and  so  thinks  I  he's 
the  powerfullest  of  all  of  'em,  and  if  he'd  say 
the  word,  — but  I  don't  s'pose  'twas  any  use  to 
ask." 

However  it  might  have  been  with  the  Judge, 
the  Judge's  daughter  grew  interested.  She 
felt  the  sharp  contrast  between  herself  and 
this  petitioner  outside  the  gate,  and  the  dumb 
appealing  in  the  eyes  of  man  and  dog  touched 
her. 

"From  where  did  you  come?"  she  asked. 

"  Over  the  river,  way  back  in  the  country, 
here  a  spell,  and  there  a  spell,  harvestin', 
wood-choppin'  or  anything.  But  it  got  so 
there  wasn't  much  of  any  kind  to  do  round 
them  parts;  and  the  folks  has  got  to  live.  I 


A  DAT  LOANED.  37 

promised  Meg  I'd  take  care  of  the  children. 
So  we  travelled  across  country,  stoppin'  be- 
tween whiles  this  place  and  that  as  I'd  get 
odd  jobs." 

"You  have  children,  then?" 

"Marm?  the  twins?  They  was  Meg's. 
Bill,  that's  her  husband,  he'd  hired  a  little 
place,  and  I  helped  him  work  it  some.  But 
he  got  killed,  and  Meg,  that's  my  sister,  you 
see,  she  wasn't  strong  and  well  noways,  and 
she  jest  got  thinner  and  whiter  till  she  looked 
like  moonshine  afore  she  died.  And  I'd  hear 
her  a-cryin'  and  prayin'  at  nights  —  'Oh,  my 
poor  babies  !  they've  got  nobody  —  nobody  ! ' 
I  couldn't  stand  it,  so  I  took  'em,  one  on  one 
arm  and  t'other  on  t'other,  and  says  I,  'Look 
here,  Meg,  I'll  take  care  of  'em.  I  ain't  like 
some  for  gettin'  along,  but  I'll  do  my  level 
best,  I  will,'  says  I.  Then  she  seemed  more 
satisfied  like,  but  she  didn't  live  only  a  day  or 
two.  So  I've  done  as  good  as  I  could,  but  it's 
been  sort  of  rough,  with  work  hard  to  get, 


3§    RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

and  so  many  of  us,  —  Hitty  and  the  children 
and  old  Daddy.  Do  you  s'pose,  marm," —  a 
sudden  inspiration  illuminating  the  dull  brain, 
—  "that  the  Judge'd  take  to  me  any  more 
'count  of  them  twins?  'Cause  I  could  bring 
'em.  Hitty'd  fix  'em  up.  She's  a  master 
hand  at  patchin',  if  she  is  little." 

The  thought  of  such  a  presentation  to  her 
father  —  that  man  of  stocks  and  bonds  !  —  and 
its  probable  results,  flashed  a  faint  smile  over 
Rachel's  lips,  but  there  was  a  deeper  feeling 
in  her  eyes  as  she  answered,  — 

"  No,  you  need  not  do  that.  I  will  speak  to 
my  father  for  you  if  }^ou  wish.  You  have  not 
told  me  your  name  ?  " 

"Joe  Baines,  marm." 

"I  will  tell  him  of  you.  I  cannot  promise 
anything.  I  do  not  know  that  he  will  think 
he  can  do  anything  in  the  matter  of  furnishing 
work  for  you," — pausing  with  a  painful  un- 
certainty in  regard  to  the  extent  of  her  influ- 
ence, —  "but  I  will  ask  him." 


A  DAT  LOANED.  39 

But  Joe  entertained  no  doubt  of  her  ability 
or  success.  If  this  young  lady,  the  Judge's 
own  daughter,  spoke  one  word  for  him,  his 
place  must  be  sure.  At  last  he  had  a  friend 
at  court.  And  he  walked  with  quickened, 
lightened  step  as  he  retraced  his  way  along 
the  winding  road. 

Rachel,  walking  slowly  back  to  the  house, 
heard,  through  the  open  windows,  the  music 
of  the  piano  —  little  tinkling  sprays  and  jets 
of  melody  interspersed  with  bits  of  talk  —  as 
Nan's  skilful  fingers  strayed  over  the  keys  in 
the  pauses  of  her  conversation  with  Heman. 
Finding  them  happily  engaged,  Rachel  lin- 
gered for  a  few  minutes  in  the  hall,  looking 
out  with  shadowed,  thoughtful  eyes  on  the 
picture  the  doorway  framed.  It  was  only  a 
few  minutes.  A  door  opened  far  enough  to 
admit  the  head  of  Peggy  —  a  privileged  per- 
sonage, who  was  "Mrs.  Larrison"  to  all  the 
household,  except  her  own  especial  pet  and 
nursling. 


40        RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

"Somebody  down  stairs  wants  to  know 
about  the  Judge.  Of  course  there'll  be  a 
whole  string  of  them  now  ! "  she  said  in  her 
quick,  short  style.  "  You've  nothing  particular 
to  tell  them,  Miss  Rachel?  " 

"No." 

Then  something  —  the  scene  at  the  gate, 
or,  perhaps,  those  earlier  words  about  lending 
her  spare  day  to  other  lives  —  awoke  a  sud- 
den resolve  to  answer  the  inquiries  herself 
this  day.  She  remembered  remorsefully  how 
troubled  and  anxious  were  the  faces  that 
sometimes  presented  themselves  there. 

tr  I  can  tell  them  what  little  I  do  know ;  it 
may  prove  some  satisfaction.  I  wish,  while  I 
am  waiting,  I  could  help  some  of  the  others 
to  wait,"  she  said,  with  a  deepening  feeling  of 
svmpathy  for  the  disappointed  ones. 

A  young  Irishman  looked  up  with  pleasant, 
though  not  altogether  cheerful,  face  as  she 
entered  the  room. 

"  It's  wantin'  to  ax  about  the  Judge  I  was  — 


A  DAT  LOANED.  41 

beg  parding  for  disturbin'  ye,  miss.  He 
didn't  come  home  the  day  ?  " 

"No,"  said  Rachel.  "We  expected  him, 
but  he  has  not  come." 

"An'  ye  can't  tell  would  he  be  in  on  the 
evenin'  thrain  ?  " 

"No,"  she  answered  again.  "I  really  don't 
know  anything  about  it ;  I  wish  I  did.  We 
looked  for  him  yesterday,  and  again  this' 
morning ;  but  some  business  has  detained  him, 
I  suppose,  and  I  cannot  tell  when  he  will 
come." 

The  stranger's  face  fell ;  he  studied  the  toe 
of  his  boot  for  a  minute  or  two  in  silence. 

"I  am  sorry,"  said  Rachel. 

He  looked  up  then,  half  laughing,  though 
not  very  cheerily. 

"An'  I'm  that  same,  too,  though  it's  mesilf 
couldn't  be  sayin'  it  would  do  much  good  if  he 
was  here.  Ye  see  the  paymaster's  not  been 
'round  the  long  while,  an'  I'm  bothered  wid 
hearin'  one  thing  an'  another  about  his  comin' : 


42         RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

so,  as  I  was  in  town  the  day,  —  I  works  out 
on  the  road, —  I  thought  I'd  jist  make  bould 
to  ax  his  honor  himsilf  could  he  tell  me.  If 
it  would  come  in  a  day  or  two  jist,  sure  I'd 
wait  —  though  it's  hard  waitin' ;  but,  seein'  all 
the  onsartainty,  I'm  thinkin'  I'd  bether  go  to 
Misther  Corry  an'  be  done  wid  it." 

"Why,  yes,  I  presume  he  could  tell  you  as 
much  about  it  as  any  one,  — quite  as  much  as 
my  father,"  said  innocent  Rachel,  pleased  at 
the  suggestion. 

The  man  laughed  again,  not  so  pleasantly. 

"Faith,  that's  the  last  place  I'd  be  goin'  for 
information,  thin !  It's  to  sell  my  time,  I 
mane." 

"Your  time?"  repeated  the  young  lady,  a 
little  bewildered.  "I  don't  understand.  I 
thought  you  had  sold  your  time  already,  — 
that  is,  that  you  were  working  for  the  railroad 
company,  and  they  pay  you  for  it." 

"  So  they  does,  ma'am,  —  or  they  promises 
to,  which  isn't  always  the  same  thing — axin' 


A  DAT  LOANED.  43 

yer  parding"  —  suddenly  remembering  to 
whom  he  was  speaking.  "Ye  see  the  pay  is 
long  comin'  sometimes,  an'  when  the  childer 
get  out  of  clothes  an'  the  shanty  out  of  perta- 
ties,  so  the  men  can't  do  no  longer,  why,  some 
of  'em  sells  their  time  —  the  bosses'  'count  of 
the  days  they've  worked,  that  is  —  to  Misther 
Corry." 

"Oh,  I  see!  He  advances  the  money,  and 
receives  it  afterwards  himself  from  the  com- 
pany? That  is  kind  —  though,  of  course,  it 
doesn't  cost  him  anything," — the  last  added 
reflectively. 

"Not  a  bit  of  expinse  to  him,  ma'am,"  re- 
sponded the  man  grimly.  "  There's  the  triflin' 
difference  that  he  makes  a  good  dale  by  it, 
seein'  he  buys  the  time  for  fifty  cints  on  the 
dollar." 

Rachel  started.  She  had  been  standing 
carelessly  by  a  window,  but  she  turned  sharply 
about  and  looked  the  speaker  steadily  in  the 
face. 


44    RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  when  the 
workmen  need  the  money  they  have  earned, 
Mr.  Corry,  an  officer  of  the  road,  will  buy  it 
of  them  at  only  half  what  it  is  worth  —  half 
what  has  been  promised  them  —  and  afterwards 
obtain  for  himself  the  whole  amount  from  the 
company?"  she  questioned  slowly. 

"That's  the  way  of  it,  ma'am." 

"Then  he  does  a  cruel,  dishonest,  contemp- 
tible thing  ! "  she  exclaimed,  her  gray  eyes 
flashing  —  quite  forgetting  the  dignity  of  "  our 
road,"  and  speaking  not  at  all  like  the  politic 
President's  daughter.  "  Takes  advantage  of 
their  necessity,  and  uses  their  poverty  to  in- 
crease his  own  riches  !  " 

The  stranger's  face  lighted  for  a  moment 
at  her  utter,  vehement  condemnation,  as  if  he 
found  some  comfort  in  it,  albeit  only  the  poor 
one  of  hearing  another  say  what  he  felt,  but 
scarcely  dared  utter  himself. 

"  It's  like  there's  more  than  one  thinks  that, 
ma'am,  only  there's  no  good  of  their  say  in'  it. 


A  DAT  LOANED.  45 

But  sometimes  when  they  passes  the  fine  house 
he's  buildin',  they  shakes  their  fists,  but  more 
of  'em  laughs  an'  says,  '  I  owns  that  fine  win- 
dy,' '  I  paid  for  that  illegant  verandy.'  Well," 
with  an  unsuccessful  attempt  at  jocularity,  "  I 
must  be  goin'  to  conthribute  him  another  chim- 
ney or  sich-like." 

Rachel  watched  him  with  absent,  thoughtful 
eyes  as  he  turned  to  go.  "  I  wonder,"  she  said 
rather  uncertainly,  "  I  wonder  how  it  would  do 
for  me  to  buy  your  time  ?  " 

The  good-natured  Irish  face  brightened  — 
sharpened  somewhat,  in  truth  —  at  thought  of 
making  a  better  bargain  with  the  lady  than 
would  be  possible  with  Mr.  Corry. 

"An'  why  shouldn't  ye,  ma'am,  if  ye  like?" 

"  I  scarcely  know  whether  I  can  or  not," 
Rachel  proceeded  still  more  hesitatingly.  She 
was  as  ignorant  upon  all  business  matters  as 
the  most  devout  believer  in  woman's  disabilities 
and  inabilities  could  desire.  "  Will  you  let  me 
see  the  account  ?  " 


46        RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

They  went  over  it  together,  he  pointing 
awkwardly,  now  and  then,  to  some  item  that 
needed  explanation,  while  her  slender  white 
fingers  turned  the  paper. 

"Ye  see  ye'll  get  the  whole  of  it  from  the 
company  again." 

"Yes,  I  think  I  shall,"  she  answered,  smil- 
ing faintly  at  thought  of  how  unlikely  it  was 
that  any  one  would  offer  her  less  than  its  full 
value,  even  if  she  wished  it  now ;  so  far  she 
had  no  doubt  of  her  influence.  But  it  was 
a  sad  smile,  for  why  should  this  paper  have 
more  power  in  her  hand  than  in  that  of  this 
poor  workman,  except  that  his  need  was 
greater ! 

"  So  it's  a  nice  little  profit  ye  can  be  makin'," 
suggested  the  man,  waiting  with  illy  concealed 
eagerness  for  her  offer  of  terms. 

"  Profit ! "  She  recoiled  as  if  a  live  coal  had 
been  offered  for  her  grasping.  "  I  do  not  deal 
in  such  profit  as  that.  It  may  be  considered  a 
very  shrewd  way  of  buying  time,  but  I  should 


A  DAT  LOANED.  47 

deem  it  a  miserably  poor  way  of  selling  more 
precious  things." 

Her  words  were  more  for  herself  than  for  her 
listener ;  but  the  quick,  uneducated  brain,  the 
warm  Irish  heart,  partly  comprehended,  and 
the  look  that  flitted  over  his  face  told  as  much. 

"  I  will  take  this,  dollar  for  dollar,"  Rachel 
said,  laying  her  hand  on  the  paper.  "  Forty- 
one  dollars  and  a  half,  isn't  it?  " 

Silently,  beyond  a  single  very  quiet  "  I'm 
sure  I  thank  ye,  ma'am,"  the  man  received  the 
money.  The  voluble  thanks  and  blessings 
usually  so  ready  on  a  Celtic  tongue  did  not 
come,  but  Rachel  was  satisfied  that  he  was 
neither  insensible  nor  ungrateful.  She  spurned 
that  thought  with  some  self-scorn,  however, 
when  the  door  had  closed  behind  him. 

"  Grateful !  why  should  he  be  for  receiving 
only  what  he  has  earned?  A  mere  act  of  jus- 
tice, and  one  that  cost  me  nothing." 

She  paced  the  long  room  once  or  twice,  a 
hot  flush  on  her  young  cheek,  an  indignant 


4°         RACHEL'S  SPIARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

throbbing  at  her  heart.  This  was  not  at  all 
what  "  our  road  "  had  meant  to  her  in  the  city. 
The  deeper  meaning  that  had  only  been  coming 
to  her  of  late,  mere  murmurings  and  sugges- 
tions, were  growing  into  audible  voices  now. 

Others  came  and  went  that  day,  and  she  saw 
them.  The  morning's  fancy  of  putting  her  spare 
day  into  other  lives  clung  to  her,  but  more  than 
that,  she  was  awaking  to  a  new  strong  interest. 

At  last,  when  the  long  hot  day  had  burned 
itself  into  twilight  and  coolness,  the  Judge 
came  home.  Rachel  waited  still  until,  the 
evening  far  spent,  and  the  claims  of  those  two 
rivals,  letters  and  newspapers,  satisfied,  the 
Judge  leaned  back  in  his  chair  for  a  little  space 
with  eyes  wandering  away  to  the  golden  stars, 
though  in  truth  he  was  thinking  of  gold  more 
marketable.  Then  she  stole  to  a  seat  at  his 
side,  and  told  him  something  of  her  day  and 
its  revelations.  Half  smilingly,  half  absently, 
he  listened,  all  the  more  smilingly  because 
absently,  perhaps. 


A  DAY  L OANED.  49 

"  Sorry  for  your  disappointment,  my  dear. 
However,  another  day  will  do  for  your  trip,  I 
suppose." 

"  Oh,  yes !  that  is  nothing.  But,  father, 
about  that  other?" 

"Other?  Oh,  your  speculation  in  time,  do 
you  mean?  That  will  be  made  right,  of 
course ;  but  I  fear  your  tender-heartedness 
will  cost  you  much  annoyance.  Your  Paddy 
will  undoubtedly  tell  how  well  he  fared,  and 
you  may  be  tormented  by  callers  and  importu- 
nities without  number.  I  wouldn't  advise  you 
to  repeat  that  bit  of  benevolence." 

w  But  that  wrong,  father  —  the  men  having 
to  submit  to  such  injustice  because  they  can- 
not wait  so  long  for  their  money?  Cannot 
that  be  helped?  I  thought  you  could  do  it." 

"  I  ?  My  dear  child  !  "  There  was  a  blend- 
ing of  pity,  amusement  and  impatience  in  his 
tone.  "  Do  you  think  I  am  the  whole  railroad 
company?  I  find  it  quite  enough  to  attend  to 
my  own  duties  without  shouldering  those  of 


50        RACHELS  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

all  the  rest.  As  for  the  irregular  pay-days  — 
why,  a  railroad  isn't  exactly  like  a  pony-chaise 
in  the  matter  of  expense,  and  certainly  not  in 
the  management  required  to  run  it.  I  suspect 
Corry  does  drive  sharp  bargains  with  the 
workmen  sometimes  —  it  is  like  him  ;  but  they 
know  it,  and  they  should  keep  out  of  his 
clutches.  They  are  a  thriftless,  improvident 
set,  for  the  most  part,  who  do  not  know  how 
to  take  care  of  what  they  get." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence  in  which  he 
bestowed  upon  her  unsatisfied,  troubled  face 
a  longer  scrutiny  than  he  usually  gave  it. 

"You  cannot  understand  it  all,  and  there  is 
no  use  in  worrying  yourself  over  things  that 
you  cannot  help — nor  I  either,"  he  said. 
"About  that  fellow  who  asked  for  work  — 
Lane  did  you  call  him?  —  Elaine?" 

"Baines." 

"I  have  nothing  to  do  with  that;  they 
employ  whom  they  will  at  the  shops  and  yards, 
of  course.  Still  I  do  not  mind  speaking  to 


A  DAT  L OANED.  5 1 

some  of  them  to  give  him  a  chance  if  they 
have  room  for  him  and  it  will  be  any  great 
satisfaction  to  you.  It  is  doubtful  whether  he 
proves  worth  much,  however.  But  really, 
Rachel,  as  I  said  before,  I  am  not  the  whole 
company ;  and  you  must  not  attempt  to  satisfy- 
all  the  people  who  come  with  all  sorts  of  wants 
and  stories,  or  you  will  have  your  hands  more 
than  full,  and  mine  too." 

She  thanked  him  gravely  for  his  promise 
regarding  Joe,  and  the  conference  ended  —  the 
talk  that  Rachel  had  planned  for  all  the  day, 
that  it  should  be  a  long,  quiet  talk,  in  which 
she  and  this  busy  father  of  hers  should  grow 
better  acquainted  than  they  had  ever  been 
before ;  for  she  remembered,  with  a  sudden 
wondering,  that  she  had  never  bestowed  any 
confidences  upon  her  father,  that  he  had 
never  sought  them.  But  the  conversation  was 
ended. 


CHAPTER  III. 

INTERWEAVING    THREADS. 

A  DAY  lent  to  other  lives  is  unlike  common 
•^  loans  in  that  it  cannot  be  returned  and 
become  wholly  one's  own  again.  It  is  like  the 
lending  of  threads  to  a  swift-moving  loom  :  they 
cannot  be  separated  again,  but  must  run  on, 
twining  and  interweaving  with  all  the  others  that 
make  up  the  fabric.  The  delayed  excursion  was 
undertaken  the  next  morning,  —  a  bright  beau- 
tiful morning,  fair  as  that  of  the  previous  day. 
It  was  only  Rachel  who  was  not  quite  the  same, 
who  had  grown  somewhat  wiser,  perhaps  a 
little  sadder,  since  yesterday's  pondering  of 
vexed  problems.  But  it  was  a  difference  felt 
only  by  herself,  and  not  apparent  to  other  eyes, 
certainly  not  to  those  of  Mr.  Stephen  Corry, 
who  was  leisurely  enjoying  a  cigar  while  he 

52 


INTERWEAVING   THREADS.  S3 

paced  the  length  of  the  platform  in  front  of  the 
station  and  waited  for  the  train.  His  face,  a 
clearly  cut,  handsome  face,  brightened  as  he 
saw  the  party.  He  tossed  the  lighted  cigar 
away,  and  joined  them  with  evident  pleasure 
in  his  greeting. 

"I  heard  you  were  at  home,  Miss  Lyndal, 
but  I  did  not  know  that  your  cousins  were 
here  also.  Are  you  going  to  inspect  that 
famous  new  tunnel  of  ours  out  on  the  Western 
Branch?  Fortunately  for  myself,  I  am  bound 
upon  the  same  errand." 

"  Not  that  our  judgment  upon  the  construc- 
tion of  tunnels  is  particularly  valuable,"  Annice 
explained. 

"  Nor  mine,"  he  laughed. 

"  '  A  tunnel  through  the  hillside  grim, 
A  gloomy  tunnel  is  to  him, 
And  it  is  nothing  more,'  — 

Except  as  it  is  made  so  by  pleasant  company. 
But  my  father  considers  this  one  a  triumph  of 
engineering  skill,  —  it  is  our  road,  you  know, 


54    RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

— and  as  I  have  already  been  at  home  a  week 
it  is  my  duty  to  visit  it.  And  virtue  is  its  own 
reward  in  this  case,"  with  another  quick  glance 
at  Rachel.  "  There  is  our  train.  Allow  me, 
Miss  Rachel."  And  he  hastily  gathered 
shawl  and  veil  from  the  carriage  cushions  and 
threw  them  over  his  arm. 

This  easy  familiarity  was  natural  enough. 
They  had  met  often  in  the  city-  Mr.  Corry 
had  been  a  frequent  visitor  at  her  uncle's  house, 
joining  the  family  pleasure-parties,  and  accom- 
panying Rachel  to  concert  and  drive  with  a 
sort  of  friendly  intimacy  established  upon  the 
fact  of  a  common  residence  at  Craig's  Cross, 
and  the  laughingly  acknowledged  bond  of 
"our  road."  She  had  accepted  this  state  of 
affairs  with  scarcely  a  thought  concerning  it 
then,  but  now,  suddenly  revived  after  these 
quiet  months  at  home,  it  jarred  upon  her. 
There  seemed  in  the  assured  confident  manner 
the  slightest  possible  hint  of  a  proprietorship 
in  herself  as  well  as  in  the  road.  She  had 


INTERWEAVING   THREADS.  55 

never  noticed  anything  of  the  kind  before,  but 
the  idea,  once  suggested,  recurred  unpleas- 
antly, and  could  not  be  wholly  shaken  off. 
It  might  have  been  either  the  cause  or  the 
effect  of  her  new  involuntary  recoil  from  the 
old  tone  of  familiar  acquaintanceship.  She 
did  not  question  concerning  it :  she  was  only 
conscious  of  the  scarcely  defined  feeling  of  con- 
straint and  repulsion. 

Meanwhile  the  others  were  chatting  anima- 
tedly of  common  interests  and  acquaintances, 
while  they  established  themselves  comfortably 
in  the  newest  and  most  luxurious  car,  to  which 
they  had  been  at  once  deferentially  directed. 
Meeting  Mr.  Corry  was  like  a  breath  from  the 
living,  moving  world  again,  Nan  declared 
with  her  most  gracious  empressement. 

"  And  one  needs  such  a  breath  occasionally 
in  this  sleepy  little  town.  Uncle  Lyndal's 
place  is  lovely,  but  so  still,  and  your  father's 
beautiful  new  residence  —  it  seems  almost  a 
waste  to  build  it  here,  only,  of  course,  the 


5     RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

demands  of  his  business  make  that  imper- 
ative." 

Rachel  wondered,  scanning  for  a  moment 
his  smiling  face  as  he  replied,  whether  he 
knew  what  other  voices,  those  of  which  she 
had  heard  yesterday,  were  saying  of  that 
house.  Probably  the  murmurings  were  too 
cautious  and  timid  to  reach  his  ears,  but  was 
it  possible  that  he  knew  of  the  wrong?  Even 
then  he  might  be  powerless  to  prevent  it  —  as 
powerless  as  herself,  she  reflected  with  a  sud- 
den flush  sweeping  over  her  face.  A  little 
later  the  train  paused  for  a  few  minutes  at  a 
way  station,  and  he  left  the  car.  He  was  rec- 
ognized, evidently,  as  he  passed  here  and 
there,  and  presently  they  saw  a  man  approach 
eagerly  and  engage  him  in  conversation. 

"  What  a  contrast  between  those  two  men  !  " 
commented  Nan  as  she  watched  them  from 
the  window.  "  How  plainly  the  vast  differ- 
ence in  station,  education,  refinement  and 
culture  betrays  itself  in  the  faces  and  in  every 


INTERWEAVING   THREADS.  57 

attitude  and  gesture,  though  we  do  not  hear  a 
word  they  utter  !  " 

A  young  man,  bronzed  and  bearded,  wear- 
ing the  common  dress  of  a  workman,  was 
talking  rapidly  and  earnestly,  —  somewhat 
anxiously,  it  seemed  to  Rachel,  as  she  noted 
the  eager  look  and  quick  movement.  Oppo- 
site him  Mr.  Corry's  fine  figure  in  the  careless 
perfection  of  its  attire,  and  his  cool  handsome 
face,  certainly  showed  to  advantage.  In  sharp 
contrast,  too,  was  his  half-amused,  half-indif- 
ferent air  as  he  listened,  and  the  smile  of  good- 
natured  tolerance  with  which  he  finally  accept- 
ed a  paper  offered  him,  ran  over  its  contents, 
and  drawing  out  his  pocket-book  gave  some- 
thing in  exchange  for  it.  The  whistle  sounded 
its  quick  summons,  and  he  placed  book  and 
paper  in  his  pocket,  and  returned  in  the  leis- 
urely fashion  of  one  for  whom  even  time  and 
tide  must  wait,  to  his  place. 

"You  combine  business  and  pleasure?" 
Nari  questioned. 


5§         RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

"  Oh,  I  am  obliged  to  do  that,"  he  laughed. 
"These  fellows  are  always  wanting  something, 
and  they  keep  too  sharp  a  watch  for  any  one 
from  the  office  to  allow  us  to  pass  unnoticed. 
They  are  a  thriftless,  improvident  set,  earning 
their  wages,  and  then  willing  to  throw  away  a 
goodly  slice  of  them  in  their  hurry  to  get  their 
money  a  little  sooner  than  the  regular  pay- 
day." 

"  But  is  the  pay-day  regular?  "  Rachel  asked. 
"  I  thought  —  at  least  I  have  heard  —  that  it  is 
often  delayed,  and  that  the  workmen  scarcely 
know  when  to  expect  it." 

"Well,  there  are  delays,  of  course,"  Mr. 
Corry  admitted  ;  "  that  is  unavoidable  at  times. 
But  the  paymaster's  car  is  sure  to  come,  they 
have  no  doubt  of  that,  only  they  are  so  eager 
to  spend  as  fast  or  a  little  faster  than  they  earn, 
that  they  haven't  patience  to  wait.  And  fifty 
cents  to-day  looks  larger  than  a  dollar  to- 
morrow." 

"  Then  when  you  buy  their  time  —  that  is 


INTERWEAVING   THREADS.  59 

what  they  call  it,  I  believe  —  you  do  not  pay 
them  its  full  value?"  Rachel  hesitated  a 
moment  before  she  asked  this  question,  nerving 
herself  to  meet  the  answer  from  which  she 
shrank.  But  it  did  not  disturb  Mr.  Corry. 

w  Certainly  not,"  he  replied  promptly.  "  If 
a  man  has  not  sense,  patience  or  frugality 
enough  to  wait  until  he  can  fairly  reap  the 
fruit  of  his  labor,  he  must  take  the  loss  his 
haste  or  folly  brings.  Is  not  that  just,  Miss 
Lisle?" 

"I  am  inclined  to  think  it  is  kind  also," 
Nan  assented.  "In  my  opinion,  the  surest 
method  of  making  people  choose  better  ways 
is  not  by  helping  them  in  their  own  miserable 
one,  but  by  allowing  them  to  feel  its  discom- 
forts so  keenly  that  they  will  be  forced  to  seek 
some  plan  of  improvement."  A  smiling  glance 
at  Rachel  pointed  the  sentence. 

But  Rachel's  grave  eyes  were  turned  to  the 
window  again,  where  the  smoke  of  the  flying 
train  threw  faint  shadows  over  the  hillside. 


60         RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

She  did  not  pursue  the  subject,  but  her 
thoughts,  could  Mr.  Corry  have  read  them, 
might  have  slightly  disturbed  his  complacent 
composure. 

A  half  hour's  ride  brought  another  halt. 
Large  quantities  of  stone  had  been  brought 
from  a  quarry  near  by  for  the  building  of  a 
bridge,  and  the  party  left  the  car  to  view  the 
work.  One  of  the  workmen,  fumbling  about 
among  the  stones  in  awkward  pretence  of 
searching  for  something  lost,  contrived  to  draw 
near  enough  to  speak  to  Rachel  unheard  by 
the  others.  Until  he  addressed  her  she  did 
not  recognize  in  his  working  garb  the  young 
Irishman  whom  she  had  seen  the  day  before. 

M  If  ye  plaze,  miss,  mebby  I  was  a  bit  free 
wid  me  tongue  yestherday  —  talkin'  of  some 
folks,  ye  know,"  he  said,  with  a  significant 
apprehensive  glance  in  the  direction  of  her 
companions.  "  Sure  ye  wouldn't  mintion  it 
where  'twould  harm  me  at  all?  I'd  not  like 
to  be  losin'  me  place  these  times,  'count  o' 


INTERWEAVING   THREADS.  6 1 

them,"  with  a  nod  towards  one  of  the  little 
cabins  on  the  hillside. 

Under  his  effort  to  speak  carelessly  there 
was  such  evident  anxiety  that  she  answered 
at  once,  — 

"  Certainly  not."  Then  with  a  flitting  smile, 
"I  will  be  silent  if  you  are.  You  must  not 
send  others  to  me  with  any  hope  that  I  can  do 
for  them  what  I  did  for  you  —  I  cannot." 

"  Sure  ye  can't,  Miss.  I'd  not  be  expectin' 
it,"  he  answered  with  quick  comprehension. 
Yet  his  look  of  relief  at  her  promise  was  fol- 
lowed by  a  shade  of  disappointment,  as  if  some 
hope  had  been  quenched. 

Something,  a  desire  to  hear  an  answer  from 
this  man's  standpoint,  prompted  her  to  say,  — 

"  I  am  told  that  Mr.  Corry  thinks  the  men 
need  not  sell  their  time  if  they  were  more 
careful  and  patient ;  that  they  are  in  haste  to 
spend  what  they  earn,  and  so  consider  fifty 
cents  to-day  worth  more  than  a  dollar  to-mor- 
row." 


62 


RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 


A  queer  look  passed  over  the  rough  face. 
There  was  a  muttered  word  smothered  in  its 
articulation,  and  then  he  replied  with  grim 
quietness,  — 

"When  a  man's  child  is  sick  he's  like 
enough  to  think  the  fifty  cents  to  buy  it  medi- 
cine to-day  is  better  than  two  dollars  to  bury 
it  to-morrow  when  he's  seen  it  die  for  want 
of  help.  Misther  Corry  is  right,  ma'am ;  he 
giner'ly  is.  An'  it's  patience  we're  wantin' ! 
Faith,  it's  a  fine  chance  to  learn  it  on  this  road. 
Beggin'  yer  parding,  ma'am  "  —  with  another 
quick  remembrance  of  whom  he  was  address- 
ing. 

The  girl  remembered  also,  with  a  sudden 
flush,  that  was  neither  pride  nor  pleasure,  as 
she  turned  away. 

"Another  of  your  acquaintances?"  ques- 
tioned Miss  Lisle  with  a  slight  arching  of  her 
eyebrows. 

But  Rachel  did  not  explain.  She  noticed 
with  new  interest  and  deeper  thought,  that 


INTERWEAVING   THREADS.  63 

day,  the  cabins  clustered  here  and  there  along 
the  road — "our  road."  The  feeling  of  pro- 
prietorship that  had  been  so  gratifying  to  her 
girlish  fancy  was  beginning  to  assume  new 
aspects,  and  bring  its  burdens  now.  A  sense 
of  responsibility  still  clung  to  her  even  through 
the  dawning  knowledge  of  her  helplessness  to 
right  the  wrongs  she  saw ;  and  through  all 
those  bright  hours  she  puzzled  her  young 
heart  and  brain  with  the  tangled  questions 
that  have  perplexed  and  saddened  so  many 
older,  wiser  ones  —  why  the  rich  man's  flocks 
and  herds  must  be  spared  and  the  poor  man's 
one  ewe-lamb  be  sacrificed?  Why  Dives 
must  be  allowed  to  enjoy  his  feast  though 
Lazarus  starved  at  the  gate? 

"Cousin  Heman,"  she  said  one  evening 
when,  out  on  the  moonlit  veranda,  he  and 
Miss  Lisle  had  been  discoursing  eloquently  — 
it  was  a  subject  upon  which  Miss  Lisle  was 
always  eloquent — of  the  life-work  he  had 
chosen,  "what  would  you  do  if,  instead  of  the 


64        RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

city  congregations  you  know,  your  parish 
should  be  entirely  different  —  made  up  of  such 
people  as  these  in  the  shops  and  along  the  line? 
What  would  you  teach  them?  How  help 
them  ? "  There  was  some  curiosity  in  the 
question,  but  more  of  wistful  earnestness. 

"  An  improbable  and  not  very  flattering  sup- 
position," remarked  Nan  rather  resentfully. 
"Heman's  talents  will  at  least  prevent  his 
burial  in  any  obscure  corner,  I  fancy." 

"Well,"  answered  the  young  gentleman, 
slowly  considering  the  subject,  as  if,  how- 
ever, such  consideration  were  new  to  him, 
"  if  I  were  so  situated  I  should  try  to  do  my 
best  for  them,  of  course,  —  the  gospel  is  for  all, 
—  and  to  adapt  myself  to  their  comprehen- 
sion." 

"And  to  inculcate  industry,  sobriety  and 
contentment  with  their  station,"  suggested  Nan. 
"  I  think  that  is  one  great  need  of  the  poorer 
classes  —  to  learn  contentment  with  their  lot." 

"  Certainly  —  the  very  teaching  most  needed 


INTERWEAVING   THREADS.  65 

by  these  classes."  He  brushed  a  fallen  rose- 
leaf  from  his  sleeve  of  immaculate  broadcloth. 
"Certainly." 

Classes !  Rachel  wondered  if  they  stood 
before  his  mental  vision  all  accurately  graded 
and  nicely  labelled  !  He  would  preach  to  them 
only  as  "  classes  : "  as  individual  souls,  each 
with  its  own  separate  life,  its  peculiar  tempta- 
tions and  burdens,  he  would  never  know  them. 
The  varied  natures,  upreaching,  hungering, 
struggling ;  the  tired,  sensitive  hearts,  crushed 
by  poverty  and  failure  ;  the  strong  spirits,  mad- 
dened by  wrong,  or  made  bitter  and  faithless 
by  seeing  others  fling  away  what  would  be  life 
to  them  and  theirs,  —  all  this  he  would  never 
understand ;  to  such  he  would  bring  no  gospel 
of  hope,  patience  or  strength. 

"  I  hope  you  will  have  your  wealthy  city 
congregation,"  she  said  with  a  long  breath. 

"Little  doubt  of  that,"  answered  Nan  loftily, 
"though, "she  added  with  a  sudden  suspicion 
that  some  sarcasm  might  have  lurked  under 


66        RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

the  adjectives,  "he  will  expect  to  find  some 
poor  —  even  the  very  poor — in  his  parish,  of 
course,  since  they  are  everywhere.  But  they 
will  not  be  dealt  with— -  at  least  I  should  not 
deal  with  such  persons  as  you  do,  Rachel.  It 
is  no  kindness  to  pretend  that  they  are  upon 
your  own  level.  I  would  bestow  charity,  in- 
deed, but  I  should  think  it  my  duty  to  accom- 
pany it  with  good  advice  and  careful  oversight." 

"Yes,  I  am  not  good  at  that,  Nan,"  laughed 
Rachel  at  thought  of  her  cousin  bestowing  her 
wise  and  proper  benefactions  upon  Mrs. 
Shackles,  or  Joe  Baines  —  whom  she  had 
seen  once  or  twice  since  his  first  appearance. 
Yet  something  in  the  same  thought  gathered 
the  tears  for  an  instant  under  her  lashes.  "If 
I  were  a  believer  in  pre-existence,  I  should 
fancy  I  had  sometime  been  a  poor  vagabond 
or  outcast  myself,"  sh.e  said,  "  for  they  touch  a 
spot  in  my  heart  that  seems  sore,  as  if  from 
some  unremembered  experience." 

A  heathenish  creed  and  preposterous  fancy, 


INTERWEAVING   THREADS.  67 

Miss  Lisle's  wide-open  eyes  said  —  one  of  the 
constantly  recurring  proofs  of  Rachel's  oddi- 
ty. But  she  and  Mr.  Weldon  dropped  at  once 
into  a  discussion  of,  or  rather  conversation 
upon,  Plato,  and  afterwards  the  ancient  Egyp- 
tians, who,  being  conveniently  dead,  could  be 
classified  and  disposed  of  in  a  proper,  comfort- 
able way,  impossible  to  these  troublesome  liv- 
ing subjects. 

Rachel  wandered  away  from  their  mild  meta- 
physical deductions,  down  the  white  gravelled 
walk  to  the  arched  gateway.  Looking  away 
down  the  slope  to  the  river,  her  gaze  was  sud- 
denly recalled. 

"If  you  please,  marm,  here's  the  twins,"  said 
Joe  Baines  in  a  voice  of  unmistakable  delight, 
drawing  into  the  full  moonlight  that  fell  on  the 
road,  two  queer,  tiny  figures  that  appeared  to 
be  only  faded  aprons  surmounted  by  coarse 
flopping  hats.  "  Why,  Joe  ! "  exclaimed  Rachel, 
startled,  then  laughing.  "These  babies  ought 
to  be  in  bed  ! " 


68        RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

"Yes,  marm,  they  mostly  do  be  this  time," 
explained  Joe.  "But  you  see,  I  don't  get  no 
time  only  nights,  and  'twas  early  yet,  and 
moony,  so  I  thought  I'd  bring  'em  round  this 
way,  and  mebby  you'd  be  out  somewheres  so's 
you'd  get  a  look  at  'em.  'Most  thought  we'd 
have  to  give  it  up,  though,  'thout  seein'  ye," 
he  added  with  a  sigh  of  satisfaction  at  the  suc- 
cess that  had  crowned  his  effort. 

Joe  had  obtained  work  in  the  yards.  "  Qesar 
did  but  carelessly  nod  on  him,"  and  the  coveted 
situation  was  found  for  him  at  once.  He  was 
wondrously  contented,  and  cherished  an  almost 
worshipful  admiration  for  the  "  big  Judge's 
darter." 

"  Ain't  they  fine  fellows,  now  ?  "  he  questioned 
exultingly,  pushing  the  children  nearer.  "Take 
off  your  hats,  twins,  and  bow  to  the  lady." 

Two  spasmodic  jerks  of  the  two  straw  extin- 
guishers followed,  and  two  round  tow-heads 
were  revealed. 


INTERWEAVING   THREADS.  69 

r  Very  fine  boys  indeed,  Joe,"  said  Rachel 
appreciatingly.  "What  are  their  names?" 

"  Nip  and  Tuck,  marm.  You  see  when  Meg 
first  left  'em  they  was  that  little  that  some  sick- 
ness was  always  a-happenin'  to  'em,  till  it 
seemed  'sif  first  one'd  die,  an'  then  'sif  t'other'd 
die,  an'  so  we  got  to  callin'  'em  that.  Josier 
an'  Dan'l  they  be  really,  but  they  don't  know 
nothin'  'bout  that.  Ain't  they  grown  fine? 
Oh,  we'll  get  along  now,  marm  !  " 

Rachel  praised  the  round  healthful  cheeks, 
and  filled  the  chubby  hands  with  grapes,  and 
Joe  turned  away  with  his  charge,  his  heavy 
face  lighted  by  more  than  moonbeams. 

Out  of  the  town,  away  in  a  wide  green  mea- 
dow by  the  roadside,  stood  an  old  railway-car 
that,  long  unused,  had  lately  been  drawn  up 
there  under  the  shade  of  a  great  oak  tree,  and 
fitted  up,  in  rude  fashion,  for  a  habitation. 
Weather-beaten  and  somewhat  dilapidated,  it 
yet  bore  marks  of  recent  patching,  and  there 
had  been  a  rough  shanty-like  addition  built 


70    RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

at  the  back,  from  the  roof  of  which  a  rusty 
piece  of  stove-pipe  protruded,  proclaiming  the 
kitchen  of  the  establishment.  Inside  the  car 
itself  a  partition  had  been  put  up,  dividing 
the  once  long,  narrow  apartment  into  two 
smaller  ones.  The  seats  had  nearly  all  been 
removed  long  before  it  had  fallen  to  its  present 
occupation,  but  a  dilapidated  one,  carefully 
propped  up,  remained  at  each  end  of  the  main 
apartment,  and  these,  with  their  faded  velvet 
cushions,  were  the  especial  pride  of  the  small 
mistress  of  the  place,  since  her  domain  had 
little  other  furnishing. 

An  odd  little  figure  was  she,  in  coarse  dress, 
almost  as  much  too  long  for  her  as  it  was  too 
old  in  style  for  her  twelve  or  thirteen  years, 
and  the  small  grave  face,  with  its  great  gray 
eyes,  wore  a  look  of  precocious  womanliness. 
There  was  a  care-taking,  matronly  air  in  all 
her  movements  too,  as  she  stood  for  a  moment, 
with  hand  shading  her  eyes,  looking  anxiously 
from  the  door,  and  then,  turning  away,  placed 


INTERWEAVING   THREADS.  7 1 

thread  and  needle  upon  the  table,  and  seated 
herself  with  a  basket  of  mending. 

The  room  had  one  other  occupant  —  an  old, 
feeble,  white-haired  man,  holding  a  violin 
whose  strings  he  touched  occasionally.  "  Fid- 
dling Simon  "  was  rapidly  becoming  known  in 
the  town  and  adjacent  country,  walking  as  far 
as  his  strength  would  permit,  playing  here  and 
there,  picking  up  what  pence  he  could,  but 
scrupulously  spending  it  all  for  lottery  tickets 
from  which  he  always  expected  to  reap  a  for- 
tune. Disappointed  again  and  again,  he  grew 
only  more  confident  by  failure,  and  the  one 
joy  of  his  life  was  to  talk  of  his  prospective 
prizes  and  the  wealth  they  would  bring. 

"  Hitty,  don't  you  s'pose  it'll  come  to-morrer 

—  or  next  week,   mebby?"  he  asked,  as  he 
was  always  asking. 

w  Mebby,    Daddy,"    answered    Hitty    with 
thoughts  intent  upon  her  work. 

w  And  then  I'll  have  a  new  fiddle  and  clo'es 

—  we'll  all  have  clo'es  —  and  a  house  with"  — 


72    RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

"Yes,"  said  Hitty  absently,  her  little  red 
hands  awkwardly  drawing  rents  together,  and 
fitting  on  odd  pieces,  while  a  perplexed  wrin- 
kle deepened  now  and  then  in  her  unchildlike 
forehead. 

"  A  fine  big  house  with  —  with  —  what'll  we 
have  in  it,  Hitty  ?  "  querulously. 

"  Carpets  and  sofys  and  pianers,"  began  the 
little  woman  in  the  tone  of  one  repeating  a 
familiar  lesson.  "There!  that's  crooked  — 
and  pictures  —  how  will  I  fix  that  patch?" 

"  Hitty,  I  don't  want  so  many  patches  in  it !  " 
expostulated  the  old  man  impatiently. 

"No,  no,  Daddy  !  we  won't  have  none  in  it ! 
It's  pictures  I  meant  —  pictures,"  explained 
Hitty  soothingly. 

"An'  carriages  an'  horses.  You  don't  tell 
nothin'  'bout  them  ;  you  used  to  know  all  'bout 
them." 

"  Horses  and  velvety  carriages  with  lamps 
to  'em,"  added  the  patient  young  seamstress, 
enumerating  the  prospective  grandeurs  with 


INTERWEAVING   THREADS.  73 

matter-of-fact  tone,  and  brows  still  knitted  over 
her  patching. 

There  was  a  shuffling  heavy  step  outside, 
then  a  scrambling  of  children's  feet,  and  Joe 
appeared  with  the  twins.  Hitty  looked  up  re- 
lieved, but  her  observation  was  quiet  enough  : 

"You  did  be  a  long  time,  Joe." 

"Yes,  it  took  a  waitin',  but  she's  seen  'em, 
Hitty  —  she's  seen  them  twins !  "I  got  'em 
right  where  she  could  look  at  'em  square,"  an- 
swered Joe  exultingly,  as  if  such  consumma- 
tion were  worth  years  of  waiting. 

The  same  feeling  seemed  to  linger  long 
after  Hitty,  moving  about  in  her  grave  and 
housewifely  fashion,  had  disposed  of  the  chil- 
dren for  the  night,  and  returned  to  her  work. 
He  viewed  with  satisfaction  her  awkward  darn- 
ing and  odd  drawing  together  of  rents. 

"You're  a  master  hand  at  patchin',  Hitty. 
Oh,  we're  gettin'  along  now,  I  tell  you,  since 
she  got  me  a  place  to  work  —  the  Judge's  dar- 
ter. Some  day  we'll  fix  up  like  folks,  if  we 


74        R ACHED S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

keep  on,  and  buy  them  twins  some  gor-ge-ous 
aperns  !  I've  seen  the  stuff  in  the  stores,  and 
I've  kept  a  thinkin'.  Red  and  blue  and  po- 
sies all  over  it !  " 

"And,  Joe,"  said  Hitty,  with  thoughts  going 
deeper  than  his,  "  mebby,  some  day,  when 
they  get  bigger  and  we  get  on,  we  can  send 
em'  where  they'll  get  learnin'  ?  " 

"  Sure !  we'll  have  'em  know  all  what's  in 
books,  Hitty." 

"  'Cause  I  think  that's  what  makes  folks  like 
—  like  folks,"  she  said  slowly,  failing  to  find 
any  words  to  express  the  sense  of  some  great 
difference  between  herself  and  others  that  she 
had  often  felt  but  did  not  understand.  "  Mebby 
they  can  tell  us  some,  after  a  while,  Joe?" 
wistfully. 

"They'll  be  fine  fellers,  them  twins,"  af- 
firmed Joe,  shaking  his  bushy  head  solemnly. 
"Wouldn't  Meg  say  we'd  done  our  level  best 
if  she  could  see  'em  with  them  new  aperns  ?  " 


CHAPTER  IV. 
THE  DOCTOR'S  HOLIDAY. 

T  TEMAN  laid  an  open  letter  on  the  table 
•*•  •*-  beside  him,  and  looked  at  Rachel  with 
a  smile. 

"I  shall  have  an  opportunity  of  answering 
practically  your  question  of  a  few  evenings 
ago." 

"What  was  it?  I  did  not  know  I  had  asked 
one  worth  remembering  so  long." 

"  You  asked  what  I  would  preach  to  a  con- 
gregation made  up  of  such  people  as  those 
about  Craig's  Cross.  It  seems  the  city  pastors 
have  been  holding  a  series  of  evening  meetings 
in  a  school-house  some  five  or  six  miles  from 
here,  each  taking  charge  of  it  in  turn.  Dr. 
Lowe,  to  whose  lot  it  falls  this  week,  is  unable 
to  come,  and,  hearing  that  I  was  in  the  neigh- 

75 


76        RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

borhood,  has  written  asking  me  to  take  his 
place." 

"  Ah,  yes,  I  recollect  hearing  something  about 
that,"  said  the  Judge,  drawing  on  his  gloves, 
and  glancing  from  his  watch  to  the  window  for 
his  carriage  to  make  its  appearance.  "Out  at 
Gill's  school-house.  It  is  not  very  far  by  a 
direct  route  over  the  hills,  but  five  or  six  miles, 
I  suppose,  by  the  only  decent  carriage  road. 
However,  that  will  not  matter  much  these 
bright  moonlight  nights.  I  presume  the  girls 
will  go  also  ;  it  is  really  a  rather  pleasant  drive 
out  there,  and  you  will  all  enjoy  it.  Do  your 
best  for  that  meeting,  Heman.  They  are  a  set 
that  need  preaching  to  badly  enough."  And 
the  Judge  laughed  and  hurried  away. 

One  of  the  girls  expressed  her  approval  of 
the  plan  so  heartily  that  her  enthusiasm  fortu- 
nately covered  the  slightly  hesitating  acquies- 
cence of  the  other.  Rachel's  pleasure  in  the 
purpose  of  the  expedition  was  not  unqualified, 
nor  did  it  grow  more  so  when,  later  in  the 


THE  DOCTOR'S  HOLIDAY.  77 

day,  she  heard  Nan,  in  conversation  with 
Mr.  Corry,  explaining  their  engagement  for 
the  next  evening.  His  knowledge  of  the  local- 
ity in  question,  and  his  expressions  of  inter- 
est in  the  project,  ended  very  naturally  in  his 
joining  the  party  At  least  it  seemed  a  very 
natural  and  most  satisfactory  arrangement  to 
both  Annice  and  Heman,  and  Rachel  could 
not  refuse  to  second  the  invitation. 

"Mr.  Corry  is  so  genial,  so  sensible  and 
practical,  that  he  is  always  an  agreeable 
acquisition,"  Miss  Lisle  remarked  to  her  cousin 
afterwards,  with  the  air  of  one  whose  opinion 
upon  such  a  subject  settled  it  beyond  all  con- 
troversy. It  was  seemingly  allowed  to  do  so. 
Rachel  made  no  reply. 

A  respectable  audience  in  point  of  numbers 
—  and  it  was  quiet  and  orderly  also  —  had 
gathered  in  the  plain,  dimly  lighted  little  build- 
ing by  the  time  the  carriage  arrived. 

"If  he's  a-goin'  to  preach  the  Gospil,  I'm  a- 
goin'  to  be  there  to  hear  it,  'cause  I  don't  go  to 


78        RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

meetin's  often,  'count  of  havin'  no  clo'es  an 
things  to  go  with,"  Mrs.  Shackles  had  observed 
to  Humphrey  ;  and  others  had  apparently  been 
of  her  opinion.  Joe  Baines,  Hitty  and  the 
twins  were  there  —  a  result  that  had  taxed 
Kitty's  powers  of  preparation  to  the  utmost, 
and  cost  Joe  an  evening  of  grave  planning. 
The  idea  had  first  occurred  to  him  from  a  bit 
of  talk  overheard  at  the  yard.  Joe  heard 
many  things  in  that  way,  seldom  talking  to 
the  men,  or  they  to  him,  as  he  went,  day  after 
day,  about  his  work  in  his  dull,  heavy,  but 
steady,  fashion,  not  comprehending  many  of 
their  familiar  topics,  but  wondering  and  pon- 
dering often  in  his  slow  brain.  But  this  was 
an  item  of  intelligence  that  had  suddenly  as- 
sumed a  possible  practical  interest  to  himself, 
and  he  explained  at  home  what  he  had  heard 
as  clearly  as  he  understood  it. 

"So  it's  more'n  like  she'll  be  there,  'cause 
he's  her  cousin.  And  we'll  fix  up  and  go, 
Hitty,  and  take  them  twins ;  an'  she'll  see  all 


THE  DOCTOR'S  HOLIDAY.  79 

of  us  a-hearin'  of  him  !"  concluded  Joe,  reach- 
ing his  grand  culmination  impressively. 

It  was  a  great  undertaking,  but  it  was  suc- 
cessfully carried  out.  Hitty  had  done  her 
luckless  best  —  poor  tired  little  seamstress  !  — 
and,  arrayed  in  marvellous  proofs  of  her  indus- 
try, they  occupied  a  front  seat  when  the  party 
from  Judge  Lyndal's  arrived.  They  were  not 
disappointed.  Joe,  earnestly  watching  for  it, 
did  not  miss  a  pleasant  glance  of  recognition 
from  the  Judge's  daughter,  though  the  corners 
of  her  mouth  quivered  for  a  moment  as  she 
looked  in  that  direction. 

Nan,  scanning  the  congregation  and  then 
the  young  minister,  thought  proudly  how  out 
of  place  he  seemed  among  them.  Rachel 
thought  the  same  thing,  though  without  the 
pride,  and  for  a  different  reason.  A  moment 
later  she  started  at  an  unexpected  presence. 
Dr.  Kelsey  walked  quietly  into  the  room,  and 
sought  a  retired  seat  among  the  listeners.  Nan 
looked  a  mute  interrogation  at  her  cousin. 


80        RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

There  was  opportunity  for  nothing  more,  for 
Heman  was  already  standing  by  the  plain  deal 
table  which  served  as  a  desk,  and  Rachel, 
with  a  curious  mingling  of  hope  and  misgiv- 
ing, turned  resolutely  from  other  thoughts  to 
hear  for  herself  what  he  had  to  say  to  "  this 
class  of  people." 

There  was  a  description  of  the  dangers  and 
temptations  of  wealth,  and  the  folly  of  making 
its  acquirement  a  chief  aim  in  life,  or  of  sup- 
posing that  its  possession  could  bring  happi- 
ness ;  a  poetical  picture  of  contented  poverty, 
fashioned  after  the  "Cotter's  Saturday  Night." 
The  evils  of  discontent  and  envy  were  por- 
trayed, with  a  rather  vague  and  abstruse  warn- 
ing against  communism  and  kindred  mad- 
nesses; and  many  truths  and  half  truths,  min- 
gled with  some  wholesome  and  some  very 
doubtful  deductions,  were  set  forth  in  choice 
language.  There  was  much  about  the  differ- 
ent allotments  of  life  as  of  God's  appointment, 
but  very  little  about  the  Carpenter  of  Nazareth, 


THE  DOCTOR'S  H  OLID  AT.  8-1 

who  became  such  for  our  sakes,  and  "  was 
tempted  in  all  points  like  as  we  are"  —  the 
Brother  and  the  Lord  in  one,  who  went  out 
with  the  fishermen,  and  could  fill  the  nets  to 
overflowing  when  he  willed ;  who  had  power 
to  make  the  few  loaves  many,  and  the  greater 
power  still  to  make  fasting  with  Him  seem 
sweeter  than  feasting  elsewhere,  and  a  home 
in  His  promised  kingdom  worth  counting  all 
earthly  things  loss  to  win. 

Missing  this,  Rachel  wondered,  looking  on 
the  faces  around  her  —  keen,  intelligent  faces, 
many  of  them  —  what  they  thought  of  it  all. 
There  was  a  listlessness  with  some,  a  growing 
restlessness  with  others,  as  the  address  drew 
to  a  close ;  and  the  instant  the  speaker  ceased, 
a  rough-looking  man,  drawing  a  long  breath 
that  might  possibly  been  one  of  relief,  began 
to  sing,  without  waiting  for  any  hymn  to  be 
announced, — 

u  We're  going  home,  no  more  to  roam 

No  more  to  sin  and  sorrow ; 
No  more  to  wear  the  brow  of  care  — 

We're  going  home  to-morrow. 


82         RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

u  For  weary  feet  awaits  the  street 

All  wondrous  paved  and  golden; 
For  hearts  that  ache,  the  angels  wake 
The  story  sweet  and  olden. 

We're  going  home,  we're  going  home, 
We're  going  home  to-morrow." 


In  a  moment  the  air  of  lassitude  and  weari- 
ness had  vanished,  and  the  people  joined  in  the 
song  with  an  energy  and  power  that  added 
depth  and  meaning  to  the  words.  It  was  the 
homesick  longing  of  souls  that  had  found  the 
way  hard.  Miss  Lisle's  fair,  delicate  face 
betrayed  surprise,  annoyance,  and  the  faintest 
perceptible  shade  of  disgust.  Mr.  Corry 
watched  the  scene  curiously,  but  Rachel,  turn- 
ing a  little  away  from  both  faces,  after  a  mo- 
ment or  two  sang  softly  with  the  others. 

There  was  a  brief  awkward  pause  when  the 
singing  ended.  Mr.  Weldon  did  not  know 
what  next  to  expect,  but  as  nothing  came  he 
closed  the  meeting,  the  people  passed  out,  and 
our  party  made  their  way  to  the  carriage  almost 
in  silence.  The  promised  moonlight  had  failed 


THE  DOCTOR'S  HOLIDA  T.  83 

to  appear,  and  in  its  stead  were  heavy  clouds 
which  presently  deepened  to  rain. 

"It  seems  to  me,"  said  Nan  in  an  injured 
tone,  "that  the  city  ministers  are  expending  a 
great  deal  of  labor  for  a  very  small  return  in 
coming  out  here  every  week." 

"  Especially  if  they  depend  upon  the  moon- 
light," laughed  Mr.  Corry.  "  Still,  it  was  not 
a  bad  audience  —  in  quantity,  whatever  may 
be  said  of  its  quality." 

Mr.  Weldon  prudently  refrained  from  ex- 
pressing an  opinion.  He  was  beginning  to 
have  a  glimmering  suspicion  of  the  reason 
why  missionaries  must  often  remain  so  long 
among  their  particular  branch  of  heathen 
before  they  are  able  to  do  any  efficient  work. 
He  had  certainly  considered  his  address  very 
satisfactory  when  he  had  prepared  it  the  pre- 
vious day,  and  rehearsed  it  to  the  well-bred 
stuffed  chairs  in  his  room,  and  he  could  not 
quite  account  for  the  sense  of  discomfort  that 
assailed  him  now.  He  ponderer'  the  subject 


§4    RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

during  the  first  mile  of  the  homeward  ride,  and 
then  meditation  and  journey  came  to  an  abrupt 
halt  together.  There  was  a  sudden  jar  and 
jolt,  the  carriage  lunged  and  tipped,  and  the 
driver  sprang  from  his  seat  in  time  narrowly  to 
escape  being  thrown  from  it. 

"  Halloo  !    What's  wrong  ?  " 

The  gentlemen  clambered  out  as  the  horses 
stopped,  —  alighting  was  not  easy  in  the  posi- 
tion the  vehicle  had  assumed,  —  and  assisted 
the  ladies  to  do  the  same.  At  that  moment  a 
horseman  joined  them,  and  Dr.  Kelsey's  voice 
inquired  the  cause  of  the  trouble 

"  Something  wrong  with  the  carriage ;  I 
can't  discover  what,  in  this  light  —  or  rather  in 
the  want  of  it,"  answered  Mr.  Corry,  peering 
at  the  oddly  tangled  wheels. 

"  Something  that'll  keep  it  froro  going  any 
further  this  night,  or  I'm  mistaken,"  muttered 
the  coachman.  . 

Nan  moved  her  foot  impatiently  on  the  wet 
ground.  It  was  not  a  pleasant  place  for  stand- 


THE  DOCTOR'S  HOLIDAY.  85 

ing,  and  the  slow  rain  was  changing  to  a  brisk 
shower. 

"This  is  a  fine  location  for  a  break-down," 
she  commented. 

"There  is  a  farm-house  a  little  way  back 
from  the  road  where  we  can  find  shelter  for  the 
ladies,"  suggested  the  doctor.  "And  probably 
we  can  borrow  a  lantern,  and  so  discover  the 
exact  extent  of  the  damage,  and  what  can  be 
done  about  it." 

"Commend  me  to  a  surgeon  for  sensible 
advice  in  all  cases  of  fracture  !  "  declared  Mr. 
Corry  in  a  tone  of  relief.  "  I  did  not  know 
there  was  a  house  in  the  vicinity.  Lead  the 
way,  Doctor,  and  we  will  follow." 

The  doctor  offered  his  arm  to  Rachel. 

"It  will  be  an  uncomfortable  walk  up  a 
rough  muddy  lane,  but  it  is  not  a  long  one." 

The  whole  party  contrived  to  find  consid- 
erable merriment  in  it,  though  they  presented 
a  forlornly  draggled,  appearance  when  the 
light  from  the  open  door  flashed  out  upon 


86    RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

them.  A  poor,  plain  little  farm-house  it  was, 
but  it  offered  a  ready,  if  somewhat  uncouth, 
hospitality. 

The  farmer  produced  a  lantern,  and  enlisted 
in  the  service  at  once,  while  his  wife  lighted  a 
fire  in  the  open  grate  in  the  best  room,  remark- 
ing that  it  was  "  a  real  chill  rain,  and  an  open 
fire  dries  damp  clothes  the  fastest,  anyhow." 

"How  cheery!"  exclaimed  Rachel,  settling 
her  feet  on  the  fender  and  watching  the  bright 
blaze  as  it  lighted  up  the  whitewashed  walls 

"  For  us,  but  not  for  the  others  out  in  the 
rain,"  replied  Nan  reprovingly. 

They  soon  returned,  however,  to  report  the 
impossibility  of  using  the  carriage  that  night, 
and  to  take  counsel  as  to  the  course  to  be  pur- 
sued under  the  circumstances. 

"  Mr.  Weldon  and  yourself  might  take  the 
horses  and  ride  back  to  Craig's  Cross,"  said 
the  doctor,  turning  to  Mr.  Corry. 

"  Only  that  it  seems  useless  for  two  of  us  to 
go,"  interposed  Heman. 


THE  DOCTOR'S  HOLIDAY.  87 

"  And  in  that  way  you  could  secure  another 
conveyance  in  the  town  while  he  might  ride 
directly  to  Judge  Lyndal's,  procure  extra 
wraps  for  the  ladies,  and  explain  the  cause  of 
the  delay  to  Mrs.  Lyndal  so  that  she  need  suf- 
fer no  alarm.  It  is  important  that  she  should 
not,"  proceeded  the  doctor  quietly,  without 
seeming  to  have  heard  the  interruption. 

"And  the  ladies,  meanwhile?"  questioned 
Mr.  Corry,  a  trifle  discontentedly. 

"Can  remain  here.  I  have  a  patient  to 
visit  up  on  the  hillside  road,  but  I  will  wait 
until  you  return." 

It  was  a  very  sensible  arrangement,  yet  nei- 
ther of  the  gentlemen  addressed  looked  partic- 
ularly well  pleased  with  it.  There  seemed  no 
good  reason  for  demurring,  however,  especially 
as  Miss  Lyndal  promptly  approved  it  and  her 
cousin  did  not  object ;  so  the  plan  was  accept- 
ed, and  the  two  rode  away  upon  their  mission. 

"Now,"  said  the  doctor,  turning  from  the 
door  where  he  had  watched  their  departure, 


00        RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

"we  shall  have  about  two  hours  of  waiting,  in 
which  we  must  try  to  make  ourselves  as  com- 
fortable as  possible." 

His  look  and  tone  said  that  he  expected  to 
be  exceedingly  comfortable.  His  manner, 
indeed,  was  not  unlike  that  of  a  school-boy 
who  finds  himself  in  possession  of  an  unexpec- 
ted holiday.  He  stirred  the  fire  to  a  brighter 
blaze,  and  drew  two  stiff  wooden  rocking- 
chairs  from  obscure  corners  to  a  pleasanter 
position. 

"  They  are  the  nearest  approach  to  luxury 
the  place  affords,"  he  said  as  he  arranged 
them.  "And  I  suppose  it  is  our  duty  to  be 
content  with  them,  if  we  are  to  practise  the 
teachings  Mr.  Weldon  gave  us  this  day,"  he 
added  mischievously  as  he  saw  the  look  which 
Nan  bestowed  upon  the  gayly  painted  mis- 
fitting back  and  creaking  rockers,  as  she 
accepted  the  chair  he  offered. 

"We  were  surprised  to  see  you  in  such 
an  out-of-the  way  place  as  that  little  school- 


THE  DOCTOR'S  HOLIDAY.  89 

house,"  said  Rachel,  recurring  to  her  wonder 
of  early  in  the  evening.  "  You  have  not  told 
us  how  it  happened." 

"  I  had  a  visit  to  make  in  this  direction,  as  I 
said  a  few  minutes  ago.  I  heard  of  the  meet- 
ing and  stopped  there,"  the  doctor  explained 
indefinitely.  His  attendance  might  or  might 
not  have  been  in  a  measure  accidental. 

"  I  trust  that  case  of  illness  is  not  a  very 
serious  one,  since  we  are  so  unfortunately  de- 
laying your  call,"  remarked  Nan  rather  stiffly. 
Heman's  sermons  were  well  enough,  of  course, 
but  she  did  not  enjoy  any  hint  that  she  was 
expected  to  practise  them  in  the  way  of  fore- 
going luxuries  and  submitting  to  inconven- 
iences. The  suggestion,  from  such  a  source, 
savored  of  presumption ! 

"  I  trust  it  is  not,"  the  doctor  responded  se- 
renely. 

He  did  not  seem  at  all  uneasy  about  it  or 
disturbed  by  the  delay.  When  the  fire  was 
dancing  and  sparkling  to  his  satisfaction,  he 


9^>        RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

sought  the  kitchen  and  the  hostess,  who  was 
knitting  and  hospitably  trying  to  keep  awake 
while  her  guests  remained,  and  entered  into  a 
secret  consultation  with  'her  concerning  the 
capabilities  of  her  cellar  and  dairy  —  combin- 
ing a  few  adroitly  managed  suggestions  with 
a  judicious  tender  of  ample  compensation  for 
extra  trouble.  He  appeared  so  thoroughly  and 
enjoy  ably  at  ease,  so  perfectly  at  home  in  this 
unexpected  situation,  that  Nan  slightly  resent- 
ed it.  It  was  very  pleasant,  under  the  cir- 
cumstances, to  have  him  there,  and  to  have 
him  so  considerate  and  agreeable  ;  but  consid- 
ering the  company  in  which  he  found  himself, 
it  did  seem  as  if  a  more  abashed  and  reverent 
manner,  a  little  more  of  admiring  awe,  might 
have  been  expected  from  this  mere  country 
doctor.  It  suddenly  occurred  to  her  that  these 
plain  homely  surroundings  might  have  some- 
thing to  do  with  the  change  —  for  there  cer- 
tainly was  a  change  from  his  usual  reserved 
professional  demeanor.  Very  possibly  he  felt 


THE  DOCTOR'S  HOLIDAT.  pi 

himself  in  a  more  familiar  and  natural  atmos- 
phere here  than  in  Judge  LyndaPs  parlors, 
and  other  places  of  their  occasional  meeting. 

"But  it  is  strange  how  people  can  live  on 
year  after  year  in  such  a  way  and  with  such 
surroundings,"  she  said,  uttering  her  conclud- 
ing thought  aloud  as  she  glanced  at  the  placid 
pink-and-white  faces  of  "Henry"  and  "Rosalie" 
which  in  glaring  water-colors  and  cheap  frames 
adorned  the  walls. 

"There  is  nothing  very  difficult  about  it, 
Miss  Lisle,  nor  very  distressing  either,"  assert- 
ed the  doctor.  "I  speak  from  experience,  for 
I  grew  up  from  boyhood  in  a  farm-house  but 
little  larger  than  this,  and  not  any  more  luxu- 
rious. There  was  a  large  family  of  us,  boys 
and  girls,  and  I  do  assure  you  we  had  no  idea 
that  we  were  enduring  martyrdom.  No,"  he 
laughed  as  he  followed  Nan's  glance  toward 
the  pictures  again,  "we  did  not  possess  those 
gorgeous  works  of  art,  but  I  have  no  doubt  we 
should  have  enjoyed  them.  Our  masterpieces 


92         RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

were  a  bird  chalked  on  the  barn-door  by  a 
neighbor,  and  a  few  cuts  clipped  from  alma- 
nacs and  stray  papers,  and  pasted  on  the  walls 
of  the  room  we  boys  occupied  —  a  chamber 
with  a  sloping  ceiling,  Miss  Lisle ;  and  the 
height  of  our  ambition  was  to  grow  tall  enough 
to  bump  our  heads  against  it." 

How  audacious  he  was  in  the  very  face  of 
her  disdain  !  She  half  enjoyed  it  herself,  and 
that  Rachel  did  so  wholly,  her  dancing  eyes  tes- 
tified. "Children  are  easily  satisfied,"  vouch- 
safed Miss  Lisle  more  graciously  than  might 
have  been  expected. 

"  But  I  even  find  it  very  pleasant,  cosey  and 
homelike  now,  when  I  go  back  for  a  visit,  as 
I  often  do,"  the  doctor  persisted,  but  with  a 
momentary  softening  of  his  tone,  as  if  some 
tender  memory  touched  it. 

"One's  friends  and  home,  of  course  —  "be- 
gan Nan,  and  then  left  the  sentence  unfinished 
because  she  could  think  of  no  relevant  conclu- 
sion—  an  awkwardness  very  unusual  with  her. 


THE.  DOCTOR'S  HOLIDAY.  93 

In  revenge  for  having  been  forced  into  it,  she 
ostensibly  changed  the  subject,  spoke  of  some 
late  magazine  sketches  on  rural  life,  and  glided 
from  thence  to  books  and  authors,  appealing 
to  the  doctor's  knowledge  of  this  and  his  opin- 
ion of  that.  She  intended  to  reveal  to  him  in 
a  seemingly  unconscious  way  the  superior 
advantages  he  had  missed.  But  apparently  he 
had  missed  very  few.  She  was  surprised, 
though  no  glance  or  inflection  betrayed  it.  She 
dexterously  turned  to  popular  lectures.  That 
was  more  successful.  He  listened  with  interest 
to  her  glowing  descriptions,  and  asked  some 
questions  concerning  the  topics  and  their  treat- 
ment, that  were  not  easily  answered  —  at  least 
to  her  own  satisfaction ;  but  he  owned,  with- 
out the  slightest  trace  of  embarrassment  or 
envy,  that  he  had  never  heard  them. 

"There  has  not  been  time,  since  Craig's 
Cross  does  not  attract  stars  of  such  magnitude. 
I  am  trying  to  cultivate  the  grace  of  being  sat- 
isfied to  leave  some  desirable  things  undone. 


94        RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

In  Methuselah's  time  people  must  have  had  a 
grand  chance  to  do  the  world  thoroughly  ;  but 
now  life  is  not  long  enough." 

Some  words  about  "judging  our  lives  by  what 
we  allow  to  be  crowded  out  of  them  "  flashed 
through  Rachel's  thought,  but  Nan  only  smiled, 
and  her  evenly  modulated  voice  went  on  : 

"Then  I  suppose  that  philosophy  has  con- 
soled you  for  missing  some  of  our  great  actors 
and  dramas  also?  It  is  almost  a  pity  it  should 
have  done  so.  Not  that  one  cares  to  bestow  a 
too  frequent  or  indiscriminate  attendance  upon 
even  the  so-called  best "  —  she  guarded  her  re- 
mark with  a  proper  remembrance  of  her  future 
position,  and  with  a  haste  which  seemed  to 
embody  some  fear  that  the  gentleman  before 
her  might  immediately  begin  to  squander  his 
time  and  vitiate  his  taste  if  he  were  not  duly 
warned.  "But  some  are  really  pure  and  ele- 
vating. They  delineate  a  lofty  heroism  and 
nobility  of  character  that  can  scarcely  be  wit- 
nessed elsewhere —  a'truly  grand  ideal." 


THE  DOCTOR'S  HO  LID  A  T.  95 

tt  I  do  not  know,"  said  the  doctor  reflectively, 
less  as  if  he  were  answering  her  than  ponder- 
ing the  subject  for  his  own  satisfaction.  "I 
think  many  of  the  '  grand  deeds,'  robbed  of  their 
dress,  the  lights  and  the  general  glamour  of 
the  surroundings,  are  not  so  very  uncommon. 
Take  Richelieu's  much-admired  defence  of 
his  ward.  Why,  I  could  find  a  dozen  men, 
any  day,  on  almost  any  street —  men  carrying 
prosaic  dinner-pails,  and  going  to  the  most 
commonplace  work  —  who  would  do  as  much 
for  a  defenceless  girl,  and  then  go  quietly  on 
their  way  without  rolling  their  eyes  or  their 
R's  in  making  high-sounding  speeches  about 
it.  Neither  they  nor  any  one  else  would  think 
that  they  had  done  anything  remarkable." 

Dr.  Kelsey  could  scarcely  have  known  how 
aggravating  he  was.  Fortunately,  the  result 
of  his  negotiation  with  the  farmer's  wife  be- 
came speedily  apparent  in  the  spreading  of  a 
neat  little  table,  and  its  furnishing  with  an 
array  of  tempting  country  dainties  that  were 


96   RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

enjoyable  after  the  long  ride  and  the  cool 
breeze.  Through  the  open  door  came  the 
sound  of  the  steadily  falling  rain.  Inside,  the 
fire  threw  its  glow  over  the  rag  carpet,  the 
braided  mats  and  the  white  walls,  glistening 
the  plain  table  service,  and  lighting  up  the 
faces  gathered  around  it. 

"  It  seems  like  a  chapter  out  of  some  other 
book  —  as  if  we  had  stolen  a  few  leaves  from 
a  story  not  our  own,"  said  Rachel,  surveying 
her  surroundings. 

"I  hope  it  is  not  to  be  continued,"  comment- 
ed Annice,  with  a  slight  shrug  of  the  grace- 
ful shoulders  around  which  she  had  thrown  a 
very  becoming  white  shawl.  She  was  looking 
extremely  well.  Even  an  old-fashioned  mir- 
ror, decorated  with  peacock-plumes  and  nod- 
ding asparagus-berries,  could  tell  that,  and 
her  brow  smoothed  as  she  caught  the  reflec- 
tion. 

Rachel  laughed  softly.  She  did  not  echo 
her  cousin's  hope,  audibly  at  least,  the  doctor 


THE  DOCTOR'S  HOLIDAT.  97 

noticed,  and  she  seemed  charmingly  resigned. 
A  faint  flush  came  to  her  cheeks  and  a  brighter 
light  to  her  eyes.  She  lured  the  gentleman 
into  a  description  of  the  little  frame  country 
school-house  where  his  education  began,  and 
of  the  delights  of  school-teaching  with  which 
he  had  been  obliged  to  diversify  his  college 
course.  One  might  have  fancied  she  found 
a  mischievous  enjoyment  in  shocking  Miss 
Lisle's  high  opinions  and  prejudices.  Perhaps 
Dr.  Kelsey  had  a  motive  of  his  own  for  soften- 
ing no  rugged  outline  of  the  sketches  he  gave, 
for  allowing  the  struggle  and  poverty  of  ear- 
lier years,  though  not  vaunted,  to  stand  uncon- 
cealed. In  any  case,  Miss  Lyndal  did  not 
appear  appalled.  The  mirthful  light  in  her 
eyes  softened  sometimes,  that  was  all.  The 
whole  incomprehensible  proceeding  was  of  a 
piece  with  her  toleration  of  that  horrible  Mrs. 
Shackles  and  her  other  odd  proteges,  Nan 
decided,  leaning  back  in  her  chair  and  watch- 
ing her  two  companions  with  a  little  motion  of 


9§    RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

her  delicate  fingers  as  if  she  were  secretly 
washing  her  hands  of  them. 

However,  the  man  could  talk  remarkably 
well,  she  admitted  that.  Of  course  he  was  a 
monument  of  wasted  possibilities,  but  since 
she  was  not  responsible  she  need  not  refuse  to 
be  entertained ;  and  having  reached  this  sen- 
sible conclusion,  she  grew  more  affable  again, 
and  had  forgotten  to  watch  the  clock,  when  the 
sound  of  carriage-wheels  startled  her. 

"  They  are  coming  !  "  she  said,  looking  from 
the  window. 

"  Did  you  think  we  were  forever  and  a  day 
on  our  mission  ?  "  demanded  Mr.  Corry  cheer- 
ily. "It  seemed  so  to  us,  I  assure  you.  And 
by  the  way,  Doctor,  we  are  bound  to  confess 
that  we  discovered  the  wisdom  of  your  sugges- 
tion that  two  could  divide  the  labor  and  expe- 
dite the  return." 

Dr.  Kelsey  bowed  silently.  Perhaps  he 
began  to  doubt  his  own  wisdom  in  the  arrange- 
ment. He  sought  the  farmer  and  his  wife 


THE  DOCTOR'S  HOLIDA  Y.  99 

while  the  party  made  their  hasty  preparations 
for  departure,  and  the  darkness  hid  his  grave 
face  as  he  assisted  the  ladies  into  the  carriage 
and  turned  away  with  a  quietly  courteous 
"good-night."  Then  he  mounted  his  horse, 
drew  his  hat  low  over  his  eyes,  and  plunged 
into  the  rain  and  gloom  in  an  opposite  direc- 
tion. He  had  had  his  holiday,  and  it  was 
over. 


CHAPTER  V. 

NOT  WHOLLY  SATISFACTORY. 

"V  TEEDN'T  nobody  tell  me  that  a  meetin' 
•*•  ^  ain't  no  use,  even  if  'tain't  a  parti c'lar 
good  one  ! "  declared  Mrs.  Shackles.  She  con- 
sidered that  she  had  reaped  substantial  benefit 
by  finding  in  the  road  the  next  day  a  scarf 
which  she  recognized  as  Miss  Lyndal's.  It 
was  wet  and  spoiled  by  the  rain,  but  who  could 
say  that  honesty  did  not  require  her  to  return 
it?  And  that  furnished  a  laudable  reason  for 
visiting  the  great  house  on  the  hill  —  no  in- 
significant matter,  in  what  the  old  woman 
called  "  a  dry  fortnight  betwixt  berries." 

So,  a  morning  or  two  later,  she  set  out  to 
restore  the  bit  of  lost  property,  plodding 
through  the  hot  sun,  and  mentally  recounting 
all  the  toils  and  fatigues  she  was  undergoing, 


NOT  WHOLLY  SATISFACTORY.         IOI 

that  she  might  have  them  in  readiness  to  relate, 
and  so  enhance  the  value  of  her  service. 
When  she  reached  the  house,  however,  no  one 
was  visible  on  the  piazza,  or  through  the  front 
windows  ;  and  after  a  long  and  careful  scrutiny 
she  was  reluctantly  obliged  to  modify  her  plan 
and  walk  around  the  house.  With  Miss  Rachel 
not  in  sight,  "Peggy  Larrison,"  as  she  denom- 
inated the  housekeeper,  would  never  forgive 
her  for  summoning  any  one  to  the  front  door. 
She  hesitated  a  moment  on  the  steps,  looking 
into  the  wide  inviting  kitchen. 

"  I  s'pose  Miss  Lyndal  ain't  home  ?  "  she  re- 
marked interrogatively. 

"I  suppose  she  isn't,"  replied  the  house- 
keeper dryly,  startled  by  the  voice,  and  a  trifle 
vexed  when  she  discovered  the  intruder.  "You 
wouldn't  have  come  to  this  door  if  she  had 
been." 

"No  more  I  wouldn't,"  declared  Mrs. 
Shackles  stoutly,  "  for  I  wanted  to  see  her 
'bout  something  parti c'lar." 


102      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

A  rosy-cheeked  maiden,  with  sleeves  rolled 
above  her  plump  elbows,  giggled,  and  re- 
marked in  an  audible  aside  that  it  was  "  a  pity 
Miss  Rachel  hadn't  known." 

"If  it  is  a  very  important  message  you  might 
leave  it  with  me,  and  I'll  deliver  it  as  soon 
as  she  comes  in,"  suggested  Mrs.  Larrison, 
amused  at  the  evident  dissatisfaction  her  pro- 
posal called  forth. 

"  'Tain't  just  a  message.  It's  something  she's 
lost,  and  I'm  clear  beat  out  bringin'  it  back 
through  this  hot  sun.  I  s'pose  I'll  have  to 
come  ag'in,  though." 

Whereupon  she  was  invited  to  enter,  and 
Rosy-cheeks,  by  direction,  brought  her  a  glass 
of  milk,  though  the  pert  damsel  tittered  again 
when  the  stained  and  road-soiled  scarf  was 
displayed,  and  hazarded  the  remark  that  "  Miss 
Rachel  might  have  been  able  to  do  without  it 
till  sunset,  if  it  was  such  very  hard  work  to 
bring  it  back  in  the  heat  of  the  day.*' 

"Well,  it  was,"  responded  the    old  woman 


NO  T  WHOLL  T  SA  TfSFA  C  TOR  T.         103 

severely,  "  with  no  better  par'sol  to  keep  the  sun 
ofFn  this  old  slitted  one.  An'  I  s'pose  pretty 
soon  I'll  have  none,  'cause  I  hain't  got  no  pros- 
peck  of  buy  in'  none,  an'  I  won't  beg  for  nobody. 
But,  as  I  tells  Humphrey,  I  guess  I'm  honest 
enough  to  take  things  back  to  their  owners  if 
I  do  br'il  my  head  a-doin'  it." 

w  I  presume  I  can  find  a  light  umbrella  that 
you  can  have,  if  that  is  what  you  want," 
answered  the  housekeeper.  She  was  kind- 
hearted,  and  if  she  lacked  patience  with  her 
visitor,  she  had  a  boundless  affection  for  Miss 
Rachel  and  a  due  regard  for  all  her  whims. 

Fairly  seated,  and  with  such  an  auspicious 
opening,  Mrs.  Shackles  was  in  no  haste  to 
depart.  She  settled  herself  comfortably,  dis- 
coursed of  the  berry  crop,  and  gave  her  opin- 
ion of  the  meeting  she  had  attended. 

"Oh,  he  talked  about  the  Frinch  revolution 
—  I  know  it's  the  style  to  bring  'most  every- 
thing from  the  Frinch  nowadays,  but  I  didn't 
know  our  own  revolution  had  gone  out  o'  fash- 


IO4      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

ion.  My  father  he  fit  in  it,  and  most  folks 
thought  'twould  last  if  'twas  home-made. 
Then  he  talked  about  the  communion  —  what- 
ever that  may  be — and  the  ile-ists,  though 
dear  knows  nobody  ever  struck  ile  in  these 
parts  !  I  s'pose  mebby  he  writ  that  sermon  for 
somewhere  else,  though,  an'  hadn't  time  to 
make  it  over ;  it  didn't  seem  to  fit  somehow. 
'Tain't  his  fault  that  he's  been  shut  up  in  one 
of  them  theology  cemeteries  till  he  don't  know 
nothin'  how  to  talk  to  folks  —  I  don't  mean 
people,  I  mean  folks  —  real  human  critters! 
He'll  preach  at  'em  enough,  but  he'll  never 
preach  to  'em,  'cause  they  won't  be  there 
—  land  sakes,  no!  not  within  miles  of  where 
he's  aimin'  at." 

"  If  Mr.  Weldon's  sermon  wasn't  appreciated 
it's  not  likely  the  fault  was  in  the  preacher," 
interposed  Mrs.  Larrison  stiffly.  She  did  not 
relish  any  criticism  of  the  family.  w  He  is  a 
young  man  yet,  and  I  daresay  he  will  make 
a  fine  minister.  Most  people  grow  wiser  as 


NO  T  WHOLL  T  SA  TISFA  C  TOR  T.         1 05 

they  grow  older.  Here  is  that  small  umbrella 
and  a  can  of  milk  —  if  you  are  going  now." 

Mrs.  Shackles  perceived  that  she  had  intro- 
duced an  unfortunate  topic,  and  she  accepted 
the  gift  and  her  dismissal  with  tolerable  grace. 

"  Yes,"  she  remarked  for  her  own  edification 
as  she  slowly  wended  her  way  around  the 
house,  "folks  does  grow  wiser  —  some  of  'em. 
But  he  ain't  one  of  the  kind  of  cakes  that'll  ever 
rise  an'  run  over ;  he'll  al'ays  stay  nice  and 
smooth  in  the  same  little  pan  he  was  first 
mixed  in." 

As  she  turned  the  corner  and  passed  out 
upon  the  gravelled  walk  her  dim  eyes  bright- 
ened. Through  the  open  window  she  caught 
the  flutter  of  a  light  dress,  the  glimpse  of  a 
flitting  figure  in  the  shadowy  distance  of  the 
apartment.  Miss  Rachel  was  at  home  after 
all,  and  she  would  see  her  "  in  spite  of  Peggy 
Larrison  or  any  of  'em."  With  this  valiant 
determination  she  entered  hastily,  and  not  until 
she  had  uttered  her  customary  "  Mornin' ! " 


106      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

and  dropped  down  upon  a  chair  near  the  door, 
did  she  discover,  in  the  softened  light  of  the 
room,  that  she  had  made  a  mistake  and  was 
confronting  not  Miss  Lyndal  but  her  cousin. 

"  Sakes  !  it's  you  !  "  she  exclaimed  with  a 
scarcely  flattering  emphasis  upon  the  pronoun. 
"  I  'most  wonder  I  couldn't  'a'  told  that  if  it  does 
seem  nigh  about  as  dark  as  Egypt  here,  just 
comin'  in  from  the  light.  Miss  Rachel  ain't  to 
home,  I  s'pose?" 

Nan  was  secretly  glad  of  the  encounter. 
There  were  a  few  things  that  this  obtrusive  old 
woman  needed  to  be  taught,  and  she  had  no 
doubt  of  her  own  eminent  fitness  to  teach  them. 

"  What  did  you  want  of  Miss  Lyndal  ?  "  she 
asked. 

"  Why,  she  dropped  her  scarf  out  o'  the  car- 
riage t'other  night  —  rich  folks  al'ays  does 
have  more'n  they  can  rightly  hold  on  to  —  an' 
I've  travelled  all  this  way  through  the  blazin', 
br'ilin'  sun  to  bring  it  back  to  her." 

"That   is    all  very  well,"    said    Miss   Lisle 


NOT  WHOLLY  SATISFACTORY.         IO7 

judicially,  "but,  my  good  woman,  don't  you 
think  it  would  appear  better  for  you  to  go  to 
the  back  door  when  you  come  to  Judge  Lyn- 
dal's  house?" 

"Tear  better?"  Mrs.  Shackles  scrutinized 
the  fair  face  opposite  her  as  if  she  entertained 
some  doubt  whether  she  had  heard  correctly. 
"  Sakes  !  no  !  Leastways  I  ain't  so  partic'lar 
'bout  my  'pearance  as  some  folks.  '  Handsome 
is  as  handsome  does,'  I  tells  Humphrey  when 
he  says  what  old  bunnits  I  wear,  an'  no  pros- 
peck  of  gettin'  better.  I  ain't  so  stuck  up 
'bout  my  looks  as  some  folks,  though  I  don't 
mind  ownin'  I'd  like  a  new  bunnit.  But  no- 
body knows  it,  for  I  ain't  one  of  the  beggin' 
kind,  nor  never  will  be.  Only  if  anybody 
offers  things  that  fit  I  ain't  too  proud  to  take  'em. 
Seems  like  that's  what  we  was  put  into  this 
world  for  —  to  help  one  another  —  an'  I  ain't 
goin'  to  hender  nobody  from  doin'  their  duty, 
by  not  takin'  what's  offered.  My  head's  'bout 
the  size  o'  your'n." 


108      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

"  I  think,"  said  Annice,  deciding  not  to  ig- 
nore so  broad  a  hint,  ft  that  I  should  be  doing 
you  no  true  kindness  to  give  you  such  an  arti- 
cle. A  hat  of  mine  would  scarcely  be  a  proper 
thing  for  you  to  wear." 

"Well,  now  !  do  you  think  they  ain't  proper 
too? "asked  Mrs.  Shackles  with  an  air  of 
mingled  surprise  and  relief.  "Now  I  don't 
mind  tellin'  ye  that  I've  al'ays  thought  them 
I've  seen  ye  have  6n  was  kind  o'  flighty-tighty 
an'  hardly  respectable-like,"  she  added  confi- 
dentially. "But  I  didn't  s'pose  you  thought 
so,  an',  thinks  I,  if  a  big  city  lady  can  stand  'em 
I  s'pose  I  could  —  'specially  as  I  wouldn't  have 
to  go  nowheres  much  to  show  it,  only  to  the 
berry  medders  an'  sich.  I'd  kiver  it  up  mostly 
with  a  veil  when  I  come  in  to  sell  berries  — 
would  if  I  had  a  veil,  but  I  hain't  got  none  an' 
don't  know  as  I  never  will  have.  Can't  you 
buy  no  other  kind?"  sympathizingly. 

"You  misunderstand  me  entirely,"  said  Nan 
icily,  but  with  a  little  red  spot  beginning  to 


NOT  WHOLLY  SATISFACTORY         1 09 

burn  on  her  cheeks.  Her  new  pupil  was  hor- 
ribly obtuse.  "  I  mean  that  you  and  I  are  dif- 
ferent persons  —  " 

"  Land  sakes  !  Yes,  I  should  hope  so  !"  as- 
sented the  old  woman  with  uncomplimentary 
fervor.  "  And  the  parson  too  —  he's  differenter 
than  either  of  us.  Poor  young  boy  !  I  wanted 
to  tell  him,  when  he  was  a-preachin'  away  at 
us  folks  to  be  contented  with  sich  things  as  we 
have,  that  all  that  was  easy  enough.  It's  bein' 
contented  with  sich  things  as  we  haven't  's 
where  the  pinch  comes.  Now  I'm  contented 
with  my  new  par'sol  that  Peggy  Larrison  jest 
give  me,  but  I  ain't  contented  with  my  t'other 
gown,  'cause  I  hain't  got  none.  I'm  'bout  your 
size,"  reflectively,  "  only  a  little  shorter  and 
broader  —  not  so  lean  an'  sprinky  ;  but  gowns 
'11  stretch  awful,  an'  I  don't  mind  runnin'  a 
tuck  —  " 

"You  need  not  explain.  I  do  not  propose 
to  give  you  one." 

The    lady's   tone    was   losing   dignity    and 


HO   RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

growing   undeniably    sharp.      Mrs.    Shackles 
squinted  at  her  critically. 

"  Dear  !  Well,  you  needn't  snap  so  ;  I  ain't 
a-beggin' !  'Bout  that  parson  o'  your'n,  I'll 
tell  ye  what  he  'minds  me  of,"  she  pursued, 
settling  herself  comfortably.  "  'Twas  a  circus 
I  went  to  once.  I  don't  go  to  'em  now,  'cause 
I  don't  have  no  money,  an'  there's  no  prospeck 
of  nobody  sendin'  me  a  ticket ;  but  'twas  real 
moril  an'  edifyin'  —  'specially  the  clownd.  I 
s'pose  you  go  to  every  one  that  comes  along, 
seein'  you've  nothin'  to  hender?  I  never  seen 
but  the  one,  an'  I  s'pose  I  wouldn't  then,  but 
me  an'  Humphrey  wasn't  long  married,  an' 
'twas  sort  of  our  honeymoon  —  leastways  our 
beeswax-moon,  for  there  never  was  much 
honey  to  it,  I'll  be  bound.  Anyways  we  had 
a  quarter,  an'  I  went  in  bold  as  a  lion,  an' 
Humphrey  he  crep'  urder  the  canvas.  He 
al'ays  says  his  weddin'  trip  was  a  trip  over  them 
ropes  that  most  broke  his  neck  —  an'  'twouldn't 
V  been  no  great  loss  neither,  he's  that  shif 'less. 


NO  T  WHOLL  r  SA  TISFA  C  TOR  T.         1 1 1 

But  that  clownd  he  jest  went  flyin'  round.  He 
was  try  in'  to  help  everybody,  an'  he'd  run  an' 
give  this  rope  a  little  jerk  an'  then  fly  an'  give 
that  plank  a  little  h'ist,  al'ays  managin'  to  take 
hold  an'  let  go  jest  the  wrong  time,  ye  see, 
'cause  he  was  so  took  up  with  his  own  little 
performin'  that  he  didn't  rightly  see  what  any- 
body else  was  tryin'  to  do  or  needin'  to  have 
done.  'Clare  !  I  thought  'bout  that  circus  right 
in  the  middle  of  the  meetin'  t'other  night ! 
'Cause  a  body  can  keep  awful  busy  an'  help 
nobody,  if  they  don't  find  out  first  where  folks 
be  an'  what  they're  tryin'  to  do.  Should  think 
'twas  easy  enough  for  folks  to  find  out  'bout 
me,  though,  needin'  shoes  and  bunnits,  an' 
everything." 

"Mrs.  Shackles,"  said  Annice  severely  — 
she  was  fully  nerved  to  severity  by  this  time — 
"  it  is  a  very  poor  and  mistaken  kindness  for 
people  to  give  you  such  things.  It  only  en- 
courages you  to  depend  upon  others  instead 
of  upon  your  own  industry.  You  should  be 


112      RACHEUS  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

ashamed  to  do  so.  You  have  no  right  to  ask 
or  expect  other  people  to  supply  your  wants. 
You  should  try  to  earn  what  you  need,  and  to 
go  without  what  you  cannot  earn.  That  is  the 
way  to  be  respectable,  if  you  are  poor,  and  to 
be  independent." 

"  La  —  sakes  !  "  There  was  a  smouldering 
fire  in  the  dim  eyes  as  they  surveyed  the  dainty 
silken-robed  figure  before  them.  "Nobody 
oughtn't  to  have  what  they  can't  'arn,  eh ! 
What  a  sight  o'  work  you  must  'a'  done  to  'arn 
all  them  things  you've  got — silks,  laces,  din- 
ners, carriages,  fine  houses,  easy  times  — 
'arned  'em  all  yourself!  An'  your  hands  don't 
look  like  it  neither."  She  glanced  from  the 
smooth  slender  white  fingers  to  her  own  hands, 
roughened,  knotted  and  stained.  "I  wish 
you'd  tell  me  how  you  did  it,  'cause  I'd  like  to 
go  into  that  business." 

Truth  is  a  pitiless  weapon  whatever  hand 
wields  it.  It  suddenly  occurred  to  Annice 
Lisle  that  there  might  be  weak  points  in  her 


NOT  WHOLLY  SATISFACTORY.         I- 1 3 

armor  of  virtuous  superiority,  or  at  least  that  un- 
educated eyes  might  fancy  they  detected  such. 
"  It  looks,  if  a  body  didn't  know  any  better, 
's  if  Humphrey  might  be  in  the  same  trade  ;  but 
he  don't  'pear  to  prosper  nigh  so  well  —  oh 
my,  no  !  "  pursued  the  old  woman.  "Can't 
you  tell  me  what  you've  done  an'  how  to  do  it  ? 
If  'twouldn't  be  henderin'  me  from  dependin' 
on  my  own  honest  work,  I'd  like  dreadful  well 
to  know,  'cause  you  must  have  'arned  a  good 
deal  in  a  short  time.  I  don't  mind  tellin'  ye 
what  I've  done.  I've  picked  berries  in  the 
summer  an'  dug  roots  in  the  fall,  an'  I've 
tramped  miles  through  the  sun  an'  rain  to  sell 
'em.  I've  knit  stockin's  in  winter,  an'  nussed 
the  sick  when  I  could  get  a  chance.  I've 
took  care  of  a  shifless  man  an'  buried  all  my 
childern  ;  an'  if  you  think  anybody's  supported 
me  too  much,  I  don't  look  as  if  they'd  done  it 
extra  sumptuous,  for  I  ain't  no  beggar  an'  I 
never  will  be.  There's  a  good  deal  of  nice- 
soundin'  talk  'bout  stations  an'  sich,  but  the 


H4      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

short  of  it  is  that  folks  is  folks,  an'  the  biggest 
ones  on  earth  is  nothin'  but  folks  dressed  up  — 
that's  all.  'Arn  all  you  get,  to  be  sure ! 
There's  them  not  a  thousan'  miles  from  here 
would  be  satisfied  if  they  could  get  all  they 
;arn.  'Tain't  much  use  goin'  round  in  shiny 
broadcloth  an'  preachin'  to  'em  to  be  contented 
with  their  lot  —  it's  the  lot  some  other  folks  is 
gettin'  they  ain't  contented  with.  Humph  ! "  and 
with  a  sniff  indicative  of  other  sentiments  than 
respect,  Mrs.  Shackles  arose  and  departed. 

Half  way  down  the  broad  walk,  she  met 
Miss  Lyndal  returning.  The  clouded  old 
brow  cleared  at  her  pleasant  glance  and 
cheery  good-morning. 

"  Well,  you  ain't  one  of  the  kind  that  thinks 
you  was  made  first  an'  the  rest  of  the  world 
throwed  in  for  fillin' !  "  she  muttered. 

"  It  is  very  enjoyable  filling,  such  a  morning 
as  this,"  Rachel  laughed,  without  in  the  least 
understanding  the  remark.  "  Have  you  walked 
all  the  way  from  home  so  early  ?  " 


NOT  WHOLLY  SATISFACTORY.        1*5 

"Every  step.  Didn't  seem  so  very  early 
neither,  with  the  sun  blazin'  down  on  a  body ; 
but  Peggy  Larrison  she  give  me  this  par'sol.  I 
come  to  bring  home  your  scarf  what  I  found 
in  the  road  where  'twas  dropped  t'other  night." 

"  Oh,  you  did  ?    Thank  you." 

"An'  I  wanted  to  see  you  partic'lar  to  tell 
you  'bout  one  of  them  Baines  babies  bein' 
sick.  They  live  in  that  old  railroad  car  in  the 
medder,  you  know." 

M  One  of  the  twins?  Poor  Joe  !"  exclaimed 
Rachel,  interested  at  once. 

Mrs.  Shackles  looked  gratified. 

"I  thought  mebby  you'd  like  to  know,  an' 
so  I  come  "  —  she  hesitated  a  moment,  and  the 
instinct  or  habit  conquered  her  late  resentment, 
and  the  memory  of  the  homily  she  had  just  re- 
ceived, and  she  added  —  "  so  I  come  through 
the  blazin',  br'ilin'  sun  to  tell  you,  though  I 
hain't  got  no  new  apern  to  wear  an'  no  prospeck 
of  gettin'  none." 

"  If  you  have  taken  so  much  trouble  for  me, 


Il6      RACHEL:  S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

I  think  I  must  furnish  you  one,"  said  Rachel, 
dropping  a  bit  of  silver  in  her  hand. 

"Rachel,  how  could  you?"  said  her  cousin 
indignantly,  as  she  entered  the  room.  "Actu- 
ally thanking  that  impudent,  begging  old  crea- 
ture for  making  an  errand  here  to  bring  back 
that  scarf —  entirely  spoiled  by  a  night  in  the 
rain  —  and  when  you  know  perfectly  well  that 
she  expected  to  be  paid  for  her  coming  !  " 

"Well,"  answered  Rachel  serenely,  "if  Mr. 
Corry  had  found  that  scarf  he  would  have 
brought  it  to  me,  and  you  would  have  been 
surprised  if  I  had  not  thanked  him  in  the 
politest  manner  possible.  Why  shouldn't  I 
thank  an  old  woman  for  the  same  doubtful 
service?  And  Mr.  Corry  would  have  expected 
recompense  also — to  the  extent  of  a  half-hour's 
chat  and  a  few  pieces  of  music.  On  the  whole, 
I  consider  the  quarter  bestowed  upon  Mrs. 
Shackles  cheaper  and  more  satisfactory." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

QUARRELLING  WITH  BREAD  AND  BUTTER. 

A  NOTE  lay  on  Dr.  Kelsey's  office  table  — 
a  tiny,  innocent-looking  note,  and  yet 
it  evidently .  caused  the  doctor  no  little  pertur- 
bation. He  pondered  its  two  or  three  lines  as 
slowly  and  carefully  as  if  the  clear,  legible 
sentences  held  something  difficult  to  decipherer 
understand.  Then  he  laid  it  slowly  down  and 
turned  to  the  book  he  had  been  reading  ;  but  in 
a  moment  his  eyes  wandered  and  he  took  up  the 
dainty  bit  of  writing  again.  It  was  simple 
enough  —  a  mere  request  that  he  would  call 
upon  a  sick  child  in  an  old  railroad  car  in 
the  meadow  —  and  signed  "Rachel  Lyndal." 
There  was  nothing  more  ;  the  most  intense  gaze 
could  evoke  nothing  beyond  that  brief  busi- 
ness-like message.  He  pushed  it  aside  once 

117 


Il8      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

more  and  walked  away  to  a  distant  window, 
but  there  was  some  magnetism  about  it  that 
presently  drew  him  back. 

"  And  it  ought  to  be  no  more  to  me  than  the 
most  commonplace  scrawl  of  a  prescription  — 
than  any  ill-spelled  order  left  upon  my  office 
slate  !  Why  should  it  be?"  he  muttered,  pac- 
ing restlessly  to  and  fro  the  length  of  the  dingy 
room.  "  It  is  the  wildest  infatuation.  Reason 
and  common  sense  tell  me  that  constantly  and 
pitilessly  enough,  and  yet  —  " 

He  looked  about  the  sombre  little  office  with 
its  darkened  walls,  its  faded  carpet,  the  plain 
shelves  that  held  his  much-used  books,  and  the 
table  littered  with  papers  and  bearing-  traces 
of  dust.  His  office  boy  was  not  particularly 
efficient,  but  neither  did  he  charge  an  exorbi- 
tant price  for  his  services,  and  the  deficiencies 
in  salary  and  dusting  were  expected  to  coun- 
terbalance each  other  —  "  with  medical  atten- 
dance for  the  boy's  whole  family  furnished 
free,"  the  doctor  added  when  he  made  a  men- 


BREAD  AND  BUTTER.  Up 

tal  summary  of  the  matter.  Certainly  there 
was  a  marked  contrast  between  this  place  and 
Judge  Lyndal's  office  at  the  railway,  or  the 
beautiful  rooms  of  his  house.  Dr.  Kelsey  had 
viewed  such  unimportant  differences  with  phil- 
osophical serenity  when  he  talked  with  Miss 
Lisle,  but  now,  with  the  beautiful  consistency 
of  human  nature,  he  smiled  bitterly  as  he  sur- 
veyed his  small  domain. 

"The  skipper's  jerkin  ill  beseems 
The  lady's  silken  gown," 

he  said.  It  was  an  unfortunate  quotation,  for 
instantly  came  those  other  words  : 

"  But  love  hath  never  known  a  law 
Beyond  its  own  sweet  will." 

For  a  moment  a  sweet,  earnest  face  seemed 
looking  up  at  him  from  the  paper.  Then  with 
a  sternness  that  was  almost  fierceness,  he  turn- 
ed away  from  the  vision,  denounced  his  own 
"unmitigated  folly,"  and  putting  on  his  hat 
hurried  into  the  street  to  escape  from  that 


120      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

haunting  note  and  his  own  more  haunting 
thoughts.  Once  in  the  open  air,  he  turned  his 
steps  as  rapidly  in  the  direction  of  that  car 
in  the  meadow  as  if  no  other  patient  in  all  the 
world  had  such  need  of  or  claim  upon  his 
services. 

Yet  the  illness  was  not  a  serious  one,  he 
quietly  informed  Miss  Lyndal  when  he  met 
her  on  the  street  an  hour  later  —  merely  a 
childish  indisposition,  a  sudden  cold  and  tran- 
sient fever.  In  his  determination  to  make  it 
manifest  that  he  understood  the  matter  as  she 
doubtless  viewed  it,  a  simple  item  of  business, 
and  in  no  way  to  be  construed  as  any  indica- 
tion of  friendship,  he  made  his  explanation  of 
the  case  so  coolly  professional  that  it  was 
rather  overdone.  The  girl's  fair  face  flushed 
as  she  passed  on. 

"  How  cool  and  odd  he  was  !  Exactly  as  if 
he  were  reading  some  article  from  a  medical 
journal,  instead  of  talking  of  a  patient  in  whom 
he  took  a  particle  of  interest.  Perhaps  he 


BREAD  AND  BUTTER.  121 

thought  it  silly  to  ask  him  to  go  there?"  she 
mused  with  a  blending  of  surprise  and  chagrin. 
Then  she  laughed.  "  Merely  a  childish  indis- 
position, indeed !  I  fancy  Joe  considered  it 
serious  enough,  —  another  case  of  c  nip  and 
tuck,'  probably." 

Her  slight  resentment  vanished,  however, 
when  she  visited  the  car  herself,  and  learned 
that  the  doctor  had  spent  a  half-hour  there  in- 
quiring into  every  detail  of  the  case,  giving  it 
his  most  careful  attention,  and  doing  all  in  his 
power  for  the  little  sufferer. 

"I  never  did  see  a  doctor  so  good,"  said  Hitty 
gravely.  "Tuck  do  be  better,  too,  ma'am." 

Mrs.  Shackles  was  seated  on  one  of  the 
faded  red-velvet  cushions,  and  the  small  mis- 
tress of  the  mansion  gratefully  explained  that 
she  had  stayed  with  them  a  part  of  the  previous 
night. 

"  Ought  to  know  how  to  take  keer  of  chil- 
dern  after  havin'  buried  all  my  own,"  said  Mrs. 
Shackles,  as  cheerfully  as  if  that  consumma- 


122   RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

tion  were  all  that  could  be  desired,  and  proved 
possession  of  the  highest  skill. 

"An'  she  brought  'em  some  milk,"  pursued 
Hitty  in  her  sober,  pleased  way. 

That  was  what  she  had  done  with  the  milk 
begged  the  day  before !  Miss  Lisle  would 
have  been  doubly  disgusted  had  she  heard  the 
old  woman's  brisk  reply. 

"Land  sakes  !  I  didn't  want  it.  Leastways" 
—  suddenly  remembering  where  and  how  she 
had  obtained  it  —  "it  ain't  good  for  folks  to 
drink  when  they've  been  trampin'  through  the 
hot  sun  an'  hain't  got  no  peppermint  to  take 
after  it,  an'  no  prospeck  of  gettin'  none.  Hum- 
phrey he  says  to  me,  'Why  don't  we  have  such 
things?  '  an'  I  says  to  him,  'Why  don't  we  keep 
a  drug-store,  or  a  fam'ly  carriage?'" 

"We'll  have  carriages,"  quavered  old  Simon, 
suddenly  aroused  by  the  word,  "horses  an' 
velvety  carriages,  when  the  prize  comes  to- 
morrer  —  or  next  week.  D'ye  think  it'll  mebby 
be  to-morrer,  Hitty  ?  " 


BREAD  AND  BUTTER.  123 

"Not  'fore  next  week,  Daddy,"  said  Hitty 
soothingly. 

"An'  next  week  I'll  have  a  new  fiddle  with 
diamonds  on  it,  an'  we'll  have  clo'es  an'  houses 
an'  pianers  —  pianers  —  Hitty  !  "  impatiently, 
"  Why  can't  ye  tell  the  lady  we'll  be  grand 
folks  ourselves  next  week?  Pianers  an'  — 
what  ?  " 

"  Sofys  an'  carpets  an'  mebby  gold  dishes, 
Daddy,"  enumerated  Hitty.  Then  she  lifted 
her  appealing  eyes  to  Rachel.  "I'm  sure 
Tuck  does  be  better  to-day,  ma'am?" 

"  Dr.  Kelsey  said  he  would  soon  be  well 
again,"  Rachel  answered  re-assuringly.  She 
was  about  to  inquire  for  Joe,  but  Mrs.  Shackles 
had  taken  up  old  Simon's  words. 

"Houses  an'  diamonds?  Land  sakes !  If 
you've  got  any  prospeck  of  all  them  things 
you're  better  off  'n  most  poor  folks,  I  can  tell  ye  ! 
There's  lots  of  'em  round  here  that  hain't  got 
no  prospeck  of  nothin'  but  trouble  —  the  men 
out  o'  work,  an'  worse  a-threat'nin'.  It's  very 


124      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

fine  for  the  bosses  at  the  shops  to  put  off  the 
blasts,  or  whatsumever  they  call  it,  a  leetle 
later  an'  a  leetle  later,  an'  so  get  hours  of  extra 
work  crowded  in ;  but  when  the  men  sets  up 
agin  it,  they're  quarrellin'  with  their  bread  an' 
butter,  bless  ye  !  They're  that  igernant  an' 
blind  that  they're  al'ays  a -quarrellin'  with  their 
bread  an'  butter.  If  they  knowed  more  'bout 
communion  an'  the  Frinch  revolution  they 
wouldn't  do  it,  but  they  has  such  peaceful 
times,  poor  folks  does,  that  their  bread  an'  but- 
ter is  mostly  all  they  can  quarrel  with  — 
though  there's  so  little  of  it  that  a  body  wouldn't 
think  there'd  be  much  of  a  fight  neither.  So 
them  men's  out  o'  work." 

The  old  woman  was  apparently  talking  to 
no  one  but  herself.  Hitty  heard  without  in 
the  least  comprehending  —  she  understood 
very  few  of  Mrs.  Shackles'  rambling  dis- 
courses. Rachel's  attention  was  seemingly 
absorbed  in  watching  the  flushed  face  of  the 
little  sleeper,  but  she  was  startled.  Was  there 


BREAD  AND  BUTTER.  12$ 

any  new  trouble?  Had  Mrs.  Shackles  any 
purpose  of  telling  her  something  which  she 
suspected  she  did  not  know,  with  a  thought 
that  she  might  possibly  possess  power  to  help? 
A  faint  smile  crossed  her  lips,  its  sadness 
tinged  with  bitterness.  She  glanced  down  at 
the  slender  hands  resting  on  the  back  of  the 
old  car-seat  where  the  little  one  lay. 

"As  helpless  as  any  other  girl's  hands. 
They  may  wear  more  costly  rings  because 
they  belong  to  Judge  Lyndal's  daughter, 
but  that  is  the  only  way  in  which  they  can 
have  any  connection  with  the  affairs  of  the 
road,"  she  thought.  If  with  that  consciousness 
she  could  but  wash  them  of  all  responsiblity 
"before  the  multitude,"  or  before  her  own 
troubled  soul !  —  but  she  could  not. 

Mrs.  Shackles  had  found  a  new  theme,  and 
was  discoursing  to  Simon  of  the  best  time  and 
place  for  digging  sassafras  root,  though  he 
assured  her,  with  a  complacent  chuckle,  that 
he  should  "  have  to  dig  for  nothin'  much  longer 


126      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

—  not  longer  'n  next  week."  It  was  probable 
she  had  meant  nothing  beyond  the  pleasure  of 
hearing  herself  talk,  for  her  voice  was  still 
running  steadily  on  as  Rachel  walked  slowly 
away  down  the  meadow  path  where  the  clover- 
heads  were  nodding.  The  fragrance  and  the 
quietness  lured  her  on,  and  it  was  by  a  long 
and  circuitous  route  that  she  reached  home 
as  the  last  slant  beams  of  the  afternoon  sun 
were  fading  from  the  piazza.  From  the  room 
beyond  came  a  little  ripple  of  music,  faint  and 
cool  like  the  tinkle  of  a  fountain,  and  then  a 
murmur  of  conversation.  Nan  had  been  play- 
ing, and  her  fingers  still  wandered  occasionally 
over  the  keys  as  she  talked — a  fashion  of 
hers.  Heman  and  Mr.  Corry  were  there,  and 
Rachel  would  have  passed  on  but  for  her 
cousin's  quick  arresting  voice. 

"  Oh,  my  dear,"  with  that  peculiar  intonation 
by  which  Miss  Lisle  contrived  to  express  sur- 
prise, a  hint  of  violated  proprieties  and  a  gen- 
eral mingling  of  toleration  and  disapproval, 


BREAD  AND  BUTTER.  12*7 

"don't  vanish  again."  One  must  capture  you 
on  the  wing  if  they  would  have  you  at  all,  you 
are  such  a  bird  of  long  flights.  We  were  just 
talking  of  a  visit  to  the  railroad  shops.  It  is  a 
long  time  since  I  have  been  through  them,  and 
Heman,  for  some  reason,  has  never  inspected 
them." 

"For  a  number  of  reasons,"  corrected  that 
gentleman  meditatively.  His  visits  to  Craig's 
Cross  had  been  fewer  than  Miss  Lisle's,  and 
they  occurred  always  in  summer  when  the 
shops  had  only  suggested  themselves  to  him 
as  hot,  dirty  and  exceedingly  uncomfortable 
places  of  resort.  Had  he  heard  any  call  of 
duty  in  their  direction  he  would  not  have 
shunned  them;  he  was  neither  cowardly  nor 
insincere,  but  as  a  pleasure  they  were  ex- 
tremely doubtful.  However,  that  was  not  an. 
opinion  to  be  expressed  if  the  ladies  cared  to 
go.  "  It  is  a  pity  they  are  not  running  at  night," 
pursued  Miss  Lisle.  "They  would  lose  their 
commonplace  aspect  then,  and  become  more 


128      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

weird  and  impressive  —  the  foundry  particu- 
larly." 

"The  foundry  is  not  running  at  all,"  said 
Mr.  Corry.  He  had  rolled  forward  a  chair  for 
Rachel,  and  was  busied  in  disengaging  a  cur- 
tain against  which  he  had  inadvertently  placed 
it.  "At  least  it  is  not  doing  its  regular  work, 
I  am  sorry  to  say  on  your  account." 

He  spoke  carelessly,  as  if  there  could  be  no 
other  cause  for  regret ;  and  as  Dr.  Kelsey,  com- 
ing down  from  Mrs.  Lyndal's  room,  joined  them 
for  a  moment,  he  turned  at  once  to  him.  If  he 
had  hoped  to  change  the  conversation  he  was 
disappointed. 

"Is  it  not  an  unusual  time  for  stopping?" 
questioned  Mr.  Weldon  after  a  minute's  ponder- 
ing. "  I  should  have  supposed  it  to  be  your 
busiest  season." 

"  Not  exactly  that.  Still  we  had  no  inten- 
tion of  stopping ;  the  men  are  responsible  for 
it,  not  we."  Mr.  Corry's  laugh  had  a  touch  of 
embarrassment.  "The  moulders  are  favoring 


BREAD  AND  BUTTER.  1 29 

us  with  that  senseless  and  rather  annoying  per- 
formance, a  strike;  but  the  other  shops  are 
working  as  usual,  Miss  Lisle,  and  the  wood- 
work and  painting  departments  are,  to  my 
mind,  much  better  worth  visiting.  It  is  disin- 
terested of  me  to  say  that,  too,  since  the  foun- 
dry is  more  especially  in  my  province." 

"  How  long  since  this  happened  ?  "  Rachel 
asked. 

"Since  the  foundrymen  stopped?  Two  or 
three  weeks." 

"  And  what  reason  did  they  give  ?  " 

What  a  way  the  girl  had  of  inquiring  into 
such  matters  as  if  they  particularly  interested 
her!  Why  could  she  not  call  the  affair 
"shocking"  or  "provoking,"  or  designate  it  by 
some  other  feminine  adjective  and  dismiss  it, 
as  another  girl  would  have  done?  But  her 
gray  eyes  were  as  steady  and  grave  as  if  she 
were  called  upon  to  decide  where  the  right 
and  wrong  of  the  controversy  lay,  instead  of 
taking  it  for  granted,  as  Judge  Lyndal's  daugh- 


13°      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

ter  might  have  been  expected  to  do.  It  occur- 
red to  Mr.  Corry  that  it  might  sometimes  be 
inconvenient  to  be  closely  related  to  a  woman, 
however  charming,  who  insisted  upon  asking 
such  questions.  Then  he  smiled  as  he  reflect- 
ed that  probably  she  did  not  ask  her  father. 

"There  was  some  dissatisfaction  about  irreg- 
ular hours,  I  believe.  They  complained  that 
the  heats  were  made  so  late  that  they  were 
compelled  to  work  over-hours  ;  and  then  there 
was  a  reduction  in  wages,  and  they  rebelled 
against  that.  They  couldn't  have  everything 
they  wanted,  and  so  they  wisely  determined 
to  have  nothing,  and  stopped  work  altogether," 
Mr.  Corry  explained,  since  it  seemed  impossi- 
ble to  avoid  talking  "shop." 

"And  the  reductions  were  necessary,  I  sup- 
pose ?  " 

The  question  was  asked  wistfully,  but  the 
gentleman  smiled  at  its  innocent  ignorance. 

"Oh,  well,  times  are  hard,  you  know,  and 
there  are  reductions  everywhere.  We  are 


BREAD  AND  BUTTER.  13* 

only  following  the  general  order.  You  ladies 
don't  understand  much  about  such  things  in 
your  '  silken  bowers.' "  He  looked  admiringly 
around  the  pretty  room  and  laughed. 

"We  ought  at  least  to  understand  enough  to 
know  whether  we  have  any  right  to  the  silken 
bowers,"  she  said  slowly. 

He  did  not  comprehend,  perhaps  did  not 
hear  the  remark,  but  added, — 

"  They  had  not  sense  enough  to  consult  their 
own  interest  by  making  the  best  of  what  could 
not  be  helped.  They  are  a  foolish,  obstinate 
set  of  fellows,  ready  to  spend  a  dollar  to  save 
fifty  cents  at  any  time.  So  they  grumbled 
and  protested,  and  finally  struck.  It  is  no 
general  movement  through  the  shops,  but  only 
among  the  foundrymen.  They  belong  to  a 
trades'  union,  of  course." 

"That  whole  system  of  unions  is  a  great 
evil,"  said  Heman  reflectively.  "  There  ought 
to  be  some  means  of  eradicating  it." 

Dr.  Kelsey  laughed. 


13 2      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD 

"Its  root  is  wide-spreading,  Mr.  Weldon. 
We  physicians  divide  ourselves  into  allopathic, 
homoeopathic,  &c.,  and  bar  each  other  out  from 
our  societies,  and  refuse  to  practise  together. 
You  ministers,  in  your  different  sects,  do  the 
same  ;  and  I  do  not  know  why  the  trades  should 
not  have  equal  rights  with  the  professions  in 
that  line." 

"  But  that  is  a  very  different  thing  —  entirely 
different.  Why,  those  trades'  unions  are  dread- 
ful !  "  said  Annice  decidedly.  "  Did  you  ever 
read  '  Put  Yourself  in  His  Place  '  ?  They  com- 
mit such  horrible  deeds  !  " 

"  Oh,  we  have  nothing  of  that  sort  to  contend 
with,"  Mr.  Corry  admitted  frankly.  "As  much 
as  I  dislike  the  organizations  in  this  country,  I 
will  do  them  the  justice  to  confess  that  I  do 
not  believe  they  either  counsel  or  countenance 
such  proceedings.  The  deeds  of  violence  we 
hear  of  in  such  connections  are  usually  the 
acts  of  irresponsible  individuals,  or  they  occur 
among  foreigners  —  the  lowest  and  most  igno- 


Bit  BAD  AND  BUTTER.  133 

rant  of  them.  Americans,  as  most  of  our  skilled 
workmen  are,  do  not  take  kindly  to  murdering 
and  incendiarism.  Societies,  constitutions, 
laws,  and  a  general  fusillade  about  rights  and 
liberties,  suit  the  national  disposition,  however, 
and  I  must  own  they  find  ways  of  being 
troublesome  enough  without  firearms  or  blud- 
geons. They  have  actually  prevented  our 
hiring  other  men  in  their  places,  by  hanging 
around  the  stations,  watching  trains,  talking 
to  all  we  have  brought  here,  and  by  persua- 
sion, bribery  and  their  whole  representation  of 
the  case,  have  either  coaxed  or  frightened 
nearly  every  one  away.  Besides,  a  majority 
of  the  best  workmen,  such  as  we  really  want, 
belong  to  the  union,  and  they,  of  course,  will 
not  come." 

"And  meanwhile  how  are  these  men  sup- 
porting their  families  ?  "  asked  Annice.  "  How 
silly  of  them  to  waste  time  and  money  in  such 
petty  vengeance  !  If  they  are  not  willing  to 
work  for  what  you  offer,  why  not  leave  the 


134      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

place  to  others,  and  go  away  and  find  work 
elsewhere?  " 

"That  last  is  not  so  easily  done."  There 
was  a  perceptible  note  ot  triumph  in  Mr.  Cor- 
ry's  calm  voice,  and  he  smiled.  "We  have 
taken  the  liberty  of  notifying  manufacturers  in 
the  city  and  in  towns  near  by,  that  they  will 
confer  a  favor  upon  us  by  not  employing  our 
insubordinate  workmen.  And  a  company  like 
ours  is  not  without  influence,  Miss  Lisle. 
These  very  independent  foundrymen  have 
been  refused  when  they  applied  for  places, 
and  they  will  probably  be  wiser  if  not  happier 
before  they  reach  the  end  of  this  little  scheme 
which  they  were  so  anxious  to  inaugurate." 

Rachel's  lips  were  suddenly  compressed. 

"  Did  you  say  that  the  railroad  company 
had  done  this?"  she  asked. 

"  Not  formally,  as  a  company,  of  course;  it 
was  scarcely  worth  that,"  he  answered  care- 
lessly. "The  superintendent  of  the  foundry, 
and  some  of  us  connected  in  one  way  or  another 


BREAD  AND  BUTTER.  135 

with  that  department;  but  it  had  the  same 
weight." 

There  was  a  faint  sigh  of  relief  at  the 
answer,  but  Mr.  Cony  did  not  notice  it.  He 
had  not  intended  to  speak  of  the  matter.  It 
scarcely  suited  his  ideas  of  a  topic  for  the 
drawing-room,  but  since  the  interest  of  his 
hearers  had  fairly  launched  him  upon  it,  he 
was  not  unwilling  to  explain  it  fully. 

"  Moreover,  since  they  were  so  exceedingly 
particular  about  their  rights  and  laws,"  he  con- 
tinued, "we  propose  to  see  that  they  are  not 
defrauded  of  their  rights  under  a  certain  law 
passed  by  our  State  legislature.  It  provides  that 
persons  combining  together  to  injure  the  prop- 
erty or  business  of  others,  as  they  have  done, 
shall  be  guilty  of  conspiracy  and  subject  to  the 
penalty  of  a  heavy  fine  or  a  term  of  imprison- 
ment in  the  penitentiary.  We  intend  the  ring- 
leaders in  the  movement  shall  have  the"  5*il 
benefit  of  that  latter  clause." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence. 


136      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

"That  seems  pretty  severe,  under  the  circum- 
stances, doesn't  it?"  Mr.  Weldon  remarked 
doubtfully. 

"  At  first  thought,  perhaps ;  but  severity  to 
the  few  is  often  kindness  to  the  many,  you 
know,  and  these  fellows  need  above  all  things 
to  learn  prudence  and  common  sense.  The 
idea  of  one  of  the  shops  being  closed  for  two  or 
three  weeks  because  their  demands  are  not 
listened  to  !  A  good  sharp  lesson  that  will  teach 
them  not  to  quarrel  with  their  bread  and  but- 
ter, and  not  to  interfere  with  that  of  other  peo- 
ple, will  really  be  a  blessing  to  them,  however 
they  learn  it ;  "  and  Mr.  Corry  smiled  again  —  a 
smile  that  did  not  soften  his  handsome  face,  but 
only  showed  its  determined  lines,  and  glittered 
for  an  instant  in  the  steel-blue  eyes.  "  I  fancy 
they  are  already  somewhat  uneasy.  They  have 
consulted  a  lawyer,  I  understand.  But  the  facts 
can  be  proven  beyond  all  possibility  of  denial, 
and  I  do  not  see  how  he  can  by  any  means 
save  them  from  the  full  penalty  of  the  law." 


BREAD  AND  BUTTER.  137 

He  picked  up  Rachel's  fan  which  had  fallen 
to  the  floor,  but  she  shrank  involuntarily  from 
contact  with  the  hand  which  restored  it  —  a 
white  shapely  hand,  comely  enough  if  one 
were  not  in  its  grasp  —  and  her  murmured 
word  of  acknowledgment  was  scarcely  audible. 
There  was  an  uncomfortable  pause  in  the  con- 
versation. Then  Dr.  Kelsey  delivered  a  mes- 
sage he  had  brought  from  Mrs.  Lyndal,  and 
turned  away.  But  Rachel,  abruptly  rising, 
accompanied  him  to  the  hall.  Something  in 
her  face  made  him  linger  a  moment. 

"I  know  about  these  people,  I  know  their 
homes,"  she  said,  without  preface  or  explana- 
tion. 

He  bowed.     "I  know  them  also." 

"  They  are  not  criminals,  Dr.  Kelsey.  If  the 
company  had  a  right  to  decide  what  they 
would  pay,  surely  the  men  had  a  right  to 
choose  whether  they  would  accept  or  refuse 
the  terms  offered  them ;  and  if  they  were 
wrong  in  preventing  others  from  taking  the 


138      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

places  they  left,  was  it  not  at  least  an  equal 
wrong  which  barred  the  way  to  their  obtaining 
employment  elsewhere?  They  have  been  hon- 
est, industrious,  useful  workers.  They  do  not 
belong  to  the  class  that  must  be  imprisoned 
for  the  good  of  society,  —  they  are  no  crim- 
inals." 

"There  is  crime  enough  in  the  affair  some- 
where, but  I  do  not  agree  with  Mr.  Corry  in 
selection  of  the  ringleaders,"  said  the  doctor 
with  grim  quietness. 

" I  know  about  their  homes,"  Rachel  repeat- 
ed as  if  that  one  thought  haunted  her  —  "plain, 
cheerful,  cosey  little  homes,  dependent  for  all 
their  brightness  and  comfort  upon  the  wages 
of  the  one  worker,  but  honest  and  respectable 
as  any  in  the  land.  There  are  gentle,  true- 
hearted  women  in  them,  and  sweet  little  chil- 
dren, whom  this  sorrow  and  shame  will  crush 
and  kill.  And  these  men  are  guilty  of  no 
crime  —  at  least  it  seems  so  to  me  —  that  their 
families  should  be  left  helpless  and  disgraced, 


BREAD  AND  BUTTER.  139 

and  they  themselves  imprisoned  with  the  most 
degraded  and  vicious." 

"  Mr.  Corry  says  they  are  foolish,  obstinate 
and  troublesome  — "  Dr.  Kelsey  closed  his 
lips  as  if  his  sentence  were  not  ended,  but 
suppressed.  It  might  be  better  to  leave  his 
whole  thought  unspoken  unless  he  had  oppor- 
tunity to  express  it  to  the  gentleman  himself. 

"Dr.  Kelsey,  I  must  know  about  this  — 
whether  anything  can  be  done,"  she  said  with 
voice  growing  a  little  unsteady.  "Will  you 
inquire  for  me?  Find  what  lawyer  they  have 
engaged,  these  men,  and  learn  from  him?  If 
there  should  be  help  needed,  anything  I  can 
furnish  —  it  sounds  strangely  for  me  to  say  it, 
but  I  will  do  it !  "  There  was  a  sudden  flash 
in  the  gray  eyes. 

"I  understand."  The  doctor's  voice  was  calm 
and  re-assuring,  as  if  her  confidence  were  the 
most  ordinary  and  natural  thing  in  the  world. 
"  I  can  easily  learn  all  about  it.  I  will  find 
exactly  how  the  case  stands,  and  let  you  know." 


14°     RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

"Thank  you." 

She  extended  her  hand.  It  was  a  trembling 
little  hand,  just  then,  seeking  strength  and 
support  somewhere,  and  it  rested  unconscious- 
ly in  his  for  a  moment.  For  a  moment  he 
looked  down  upon  it  as  if  sorely  tempted  to 
claim  it  for  a  longer,  closer  holding ;  then  he 
bade  her  a  grave  good-by  and  left  her. 

"  Grandmamma's  prescriptions  must  require 
minute  and  explicit  directions,  and  much  re- 
iteration ! "  commented  Nan  with  an  arch 
laugh  that  scarcely  glossed  the  impertinence 
of  the  remark. 

Even  quiet  Rachel  could  be  haughty  upon 
rare  occasions.  She  vouchsafed  neither  smile 
nor  word  of  reply,  but  bestowed  upon  her 
cousin  a  cool  inquiring  glance  which  sent  that 
young  lady  to  turning  over  the  contents  of  a 
music  portfolio,  and  inspired  Heman  to  remark 
upon  some  recent  discoveries  in  Herculaneum. 
Buried  cities  were  at  least  safe.  But  while 
they  talked  of  exhumations  and  inscriptions, 


BREAD  AND  BUTTER.  141 

some  words  from  an  ancient  book  were  run- 
ning sadly  through  Rachel's  thought : 

"  And  on  the  side  of  their  oppressors  there 
was  power  :  but  they  had  no  comforter." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

IN  THE  SAME  BOAT. 

.  KELSEY  journeyed  cityward,  two  o*- 
three  days  later,  in  pursuit  of  drugs  and 
information.  For  the  former  he  could  have 
sent  or  could  have  waited,  but  he  could  brook 
no  delay  in  regard  to  the  latter,  nor  could  he 
trust  another.  He  had  learned  that  the  foun- 
drymen,  wisely  divining  that  their  chance  for 
skilful  counsel  and  strong  legal  support  would 
be  greater  outside  of  Craig's  Cross,  where  the 
influence  and  power  of  the  railroad  company 
were  all-pervasive,  had  sought  aid  in  the  city. 
He  had  obtained  the  name  of  the  firm  and 
determined  upon  an  interview. 

"Yes,  sir,  y-e-s,"  answered  the  gray-haired, 
keen-eyed  gentleman  to  whom  he  presently 
introduced  himself  and  his  mission ;  "  I  think 

142 


IN  THE  SAME  BOAT.  143 

we  have  a  little  matter  of  that  kind  on  nand ; 
I  recollect  it." 

Dr.'Kelsey  did  not  doubt  that  he  recollected 
clearly,  even  though  the  handsomely  appoint- 
ed office,  the  mighty  array  of  books  and 
papers,  and  the  unconcerned  air  of  the  legal 
gentleman,  seemed  to  imply  that  the  imprison- 
ment or  release  of  a  few  workmen,  or  of  a 
few  railroad  corporations,  or  of  two  thirds  of 
the  human  family  indeed,  would  be  a  trifling 
incident  soon  banished  from  the  judicial  mind 
by  more  weighty  concerns. 

What  did  he  think  of  the  case  ?  That  it  was 
not  easy  to  discover  —  certainly  not  until  he 
had  found  out  what  he  thought  of  his  visitor ; 
and  perceiving  this,  Dr.  Kelsey  allowed  him 
to  take  silent  and  conversational  observations, 
and  facilitated  them  by  explaining,  as  frankly 
as  it  was  possible  to  do,  the  ground  of  his 
interest.  The  lawver's  face  slowly  cleared. 
He  laughed. 

"You  came  from  Craig's  Cross,  you  see,  and 


144      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

I  understand  the  road  pretty  nearly  own  that 
place,  buildings  and  people,  souls  and  bodies, 
so  I  did  not  know  what  connection  you  might 
have  with  the  matter.  Yes,  sir,  the  case  has 
been  placed  in  our  hands." 

"And  what  are  the  chances  for  the  men,  if 
I  may  ask?  " 

"  Chances  ?  We-11,"  the  lawyer  smiled  again  ; 
"  the  law  seems  to  be  explicit  enough  —  and 
I  suppose  there  is  no  doubt  of  its  infringe- 
ment in  this  case.  There  may  be  some  adjust- 
ment, possibly,  or  compromise.  I  have  soli- 
cited an  interview  in  that  direction." 

He  spoke  slowly,  his  elbows  resting  on  the 
arms  of  his  chair,  the  finger-tips  of  the  right 
hand  matching  themselves  carefully  against 
those  of  the  left,  as  if  he  were  putting  together 
the  pieces  of  a  puzzle.  There  was  a  slight 
sound  at  the  outer  door,  and  the  gentleman 
raised  his  head ;  the  air  of  deliberation  suddenly 
changed  to  alertness  and  decision.  He  glanced 
at  his  watch. 


IN  THE  SAME  BOAT.  145 

"Pardon  me,  I  have  an  appointment.  No, 
do  not  go,"  as  his  visitor  made  a  movement 
toward  departure.  "If  you  are  at  leisure,  please 
remain  a  few  minutes,  and  I  will  see  you  again. 
I  shall  not  be  long  occupied,  and  I  may  be  able 
to  answer  your  inquiries  more  definitely." 

A  wave  of  his  hand  seemed  to  place  the 
apartment  in  the  doctor's  possession,  and  that 
gentleman,  who  had  begun  to  despair  of  obtain- 
ing any  information,  decided  to  comply  with 
the  suggestion  and  wait  a  little  longer.  As  he 
resumed  his  seat  the  lawyer  vanished  into  the 
adjoining  office,  leaving,  either  accidentally  or 
designedly,  the  door  between  the  two  rooms 
ajar.  Dr.  Kelsey  took  up  a  daily  paper,  one 
of  the  articles  the  waving  hand  had  apparently 
placed  at  his  disposal,  and  for  a  minute  or  two 
was  only  absently  conscious  of  the  occupants  or 
conversation  of  the  next  room.  Some  one  had 
entered,  and  they  were  talking.  It  was  noth- 
ing that  interested  him,  of  course,  beyond  a 
passing  reflection  that  if  the  new-comer  paid 


I46      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

for  a  legal  opinion  it  was  to  be  hoped  he  might 
obtain  something  worthy  of  being  called  one. 

Then  his  indifference  was  effectually  ban- 
ished by  a  voice  familiar  and  unmistakable 
which  reached  him  clearly. 

"I  came  merely  to  avoid  the  discourtesy  of 
refusing  your  request,  though  I  regard  it  as  a 
useless  one.  I  see  no  necessity  for  discussing 
the  matter  until  it  is  presented  in  all  its  bear- 
ings, and  in  proper  form,  before  the  court," 
said  Mr.  Stephen  Corry. 

"Let  me  hope  you  will  not  regret  coming, 
nevertheless,"  replied  the  lawyer's  low  bland 
tones.  He  had  placed  chairs  by  a  small  table 
in  the  centre  of  the  room,  where  the  remainder 
of  the  conversation  was  unavoidably  audible  to 
the  inmate  of  the  adjoining  room.  "We  may 
agree  upon  some  plan  of  adjustment  that  will 
obviate  the  necessity  of  a  trial.  We  may  be 
able  to  arrange  some  terms  —  " 

"We  do  not  wish  to  make  any,"  interposed 
Mr.  Corry  decidedly. 


IN  THE  SAME  BOAT,  147 

"Ah?  We-11,  but  courts  are  large  bodies 
that  move  slowly,  you  know,  and  their  deci- 
sions cannot  always  be  certainly  determined — " 

"We  are  content  that  they  shall  move  slowly, 
but  we  expect  in  this  case  that  they  will  move 
very  surely,"  interrupted  Mr.  Corry  again. 

The  eyes  under  the  lawyer's  bushy  gray 
brows  noted  the  triumph  in  his  face. 

"  The  laws  as  administered  by  our  courts 
are,  of  necessity,  rigid,"  pursued  the  attorney, 
tapping  with  a  pencil  the  green  baize  of  the 
table.  w  They  cannot  be  made  flexible  enough 
to  accommodate  themselves  to  all  the  varying 
circumstances.  In  this  case,  now,  it  is  prob- 
able these  men  did  not  know  of  the  existence 
of  a  law  so  defining  conspiracy  ?  " 

w  I  presume  not,"  Mr.  Corry  smiled  grimly. 
"  People  should  be  wise  enough  to  look  before 
they  leap,  however.  It  would  have  been  the 
part  of  common  sense  to  discover  whether  their 
undertaking  was  a  lawful  one  before  they  en- 
tered upon  it." 


148      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

The  lawyer's  answering  smile  was  a  peculiar 
one. 

"  Many  who  claim  to  be  far  wiser  than  they 
fall  into  that  error,  Mr.  Corry." 

"  Possibly."  Mr.  Corry  was  not  interested  in 
the  frailties  of  humanity  in  general.  "One 
thing  these  fellows  did  know,  however  —  that 
they  were  injuring  us  by  preventing  our  hiring 
others  in  their  stead.  They  fully  intended  that." 

"  But  if  that  annoyance  should  cease  ? "  the 
attorney  suggested. 

"  It  assuredly  will  cease  with  the  perpetrators 
safely  behind  prison  bars.  That  will  be  the 
best  guarantee  in  the  world,"  insisted  the 
younger  man's  hard  triumphant  tones.  "Be- 
sides, they  will  have  ample  opportunity  to  med- 
itate upon  the  laws  of  the  land,  and  improve 
upon  their  ignorance.  The  improvement  of 
the  condition  of  the  working  classes  is  a  ques- 
tion that  is  greatly  agitating  the  reformers,  you 
know.  We  will  contribute  our  mite  towards  its 
solution." 


IN  THE  SAME  BOAT.  149 

"Ye-s.  You  think  these  men  should  have 
submitted  quietly  to  the  reduction  of  wages?" 

"  It  would  have  been  far  more  sensible  than 
any  other  course ;  but  if  they  did  not  choose 
that,  they  should  not  have  attempted  to  prevent 
our  hiring  others.  We  intend  they  shall  have 
cause  to  repent  of  that  proceeding." 

"I  should  have  supposed  you  held  the 
means  of  retaliation  in  your  own  hands. 
Could  you  not  induce  other  shops  and  foun- 
dries not  to  employ  them?  Give  them  a  taste 
of  the  same  medicine,  eh?" 

"We  attended  to  that  very  effectually,"  said 
Mr.  Corry  with  his  scornful  smile  once  more. 
"They  have  had  the  benefit  of  an  experience 
in  that  direction  that  they  will  be  likely  to  re- 
member, I  fancy.  They  have  at  least  learned 
that  our  influence  is  potent  in  many  quarters." 

"Ah!"  The  keen  eyes  closed  for  a  mo- 
ment in  apparent  meditation.  "And  now  you 
wish  to  add  a  legal  prosecution?  But  these 
men,  so  far  as  I  can  learn,  are  not  dangerous 


15°      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

members  of  society,  not  of  the  depraved  and 
vicious  class  at  all?  And  the  penitentiary  is 
an  ugly  place  to  send  a  man,  Mr.  Corry  —  an 
ugly  place.  Then  there  are  the  families  to  be 
considered." 

"They  should  have  considered  them,"  said 
Mr.  Corry  shortly ;  "  it  is  their  business,  not 
ours.  Besides,  they  are  not  doing  much  for 
their  families  while  they  are  hanging  around 
out  of  work.  But  the  long  and  short  of  the 
subject  is,  that  we  intend  these  men  and  all 
others  shall  be  taught,  once  for  all,  that  our 
company,  its  shops,  rules,  and  whole  plans  of 
working,  are  to  be  respected  and  let  alone ; 
that  they  cannot  be  trifled  with,  interfered  with, 
or  fought  against  safely.  A  sentence  of  impris- 
onment, which  we  fully  intend  these  fellows 
shall  have  if  we  can  secure  it,  —  and  of  that  we 
have  little  doubt,  —  will  at  least  be  a  salutary 
warning  to  others.  I  may  as  well  tell  you  at 
once  that  you  are  wasting  time  in  this  inter- 
view. You  are  acting  in  the  interest  of  these 


IN  THE  SAME  BOAT.  !$! 

men,  I  understand,  but  we  will  not  quash  the 
case  by  any  compromise  or  agreement." 

"We-11,  I  had  none  to  propose,"  said  the 
lawyer  slowly.  M I  was  merely  asking  you  to 
view  it  in  all  its  aspects.  I  think  you  are  cor- 
rect about  the  law.  If  you  prosecute  you  can 
get  the  men  convicted  ;  I  do  not  mind  giving 
that  as  m}'  opinion.  It  is  probable  you  can 
procure  them  a  term  in  the  penitentiary — I  do 
not  see  how  it  can  be  helped.  But,"  the  slow 
speculative  manner  suddenly  vanished,  and 
the  keen  eyes  flashed  a  fiery  glance  upon  the 
astonished  face  opposite  them,  "  as  surely  as 
you  do  it,  sir,  you  shall  go  with  them  ! " 

"I — what  do  you  mean?"  demanded  Mr. 
Corry,  surprised  even  beyond  anger  for  the 
moment. 

n  I  mean  exactly  what  I  say,  sir.  You  to  talk 
of  '  looking  before  leaping,'  and  the  duty  of 
making  sure  an  act  is  no  infringement  of  law 
before  committing  it,  indeed !  You  did  not 
even  see  that  you  had  done  precisely  what 


*52   RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

they  did  !  If  they  conspired  to  prevent  your 
obtaining  workmen,  you  employers  also  con- 
spired to  prevent  their  obtaining  work  else- 
where, and  so  successfully,  by  your  own  show- 
ing, as  to  do  them  great  injury.  The  law 
covers  the  one  action  as  completely  as  the 
other,  and  if  you  choose  to  prosecute  under  it, 
you  shall  share  whatever  measure  you  mete  to 
others  —  be  assured  of  that!  Do  you  see?" 

Mr.  Corry  did  see.  He  muttered  something 
about  "threats  and  bravado,"  but  he  did  not 
complete  the  sentence.  He  was  wise  enough 
to  understand  that  he  had  blundered.  The 
lawyer  opened  a  heavily  bound  volume  and 
laid  it  before  him. 

"There  is  the  law,  sir.  You  will  see  that, 
very  stupidly,  it  cuts  both  ways." 

Mr.  Corry  read  it  in  silence  ;  he  seemed  dis- 
posed to  remain  silent. 

"As  I  said  before,"  pursued  the  attorney, 
calmly,  "  with  proper  persistence  and  manage- 
ment, you  can  steer  that  obnoxious  crew  into  the 


IN  THE  SAME  BOAT.  153 

penitentiary,  but  you,  with  two  or  three  other 
gentlemen  of  your  corporation,  are  in  the  same 
boat  —  that  is  all." 

Mr  Corry  arose  stiffly. 

"  It  would  be  folly  to  pretend  that  I  do  not 
understand  you,  or  that  —  "  His  face  was  at 
white  heat,  but  he  held  his  voice  and  words  in 
check.  "Of  course  this  ends  the  matter — for 
this  time"  with  savage  emphasis  on  the  last 
two  words ;  "  but  I  advise  you  to  warn  your 
clients  that  all  interference  with  our  employ- 
ment of  men  must  cease." 

"Ah  !  Thank  you  for  reminding  me  of  that 
point !  About  your  opposition  to  their  obtain- 
ing work  elsewhere  —  I  presume  you  will  with- 
draw all  that?  Notify  those  manufacturers  that 
your  objections  to  the  employment  of  these  men 
have  ceased,  or  something  of  that  sort?  I 
advise  you  to  nullify,  as  speedily  as  possible, 
any  such  notices  you  may  have  sent  out.  Such 
writings  prove  ugly  documents  occasionally, 
Mr.  Corry,  very  ugly.  Good-morning,  sir." 


154      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

If  Mr.  Corry  replied,  the  words  were  lost  in 
the  sharp  closing  of  the  door  as  he  departed. 
The  lawyer  whistled  softly  and  rubbed  his 
hands  together.  Then  he  walked  back  into 
the  office  where  Dr.  Kelsey  awaited  him. 

"You  heard?  "  he  questioned  with  a  smile. 

"I  heard.  Thank  you  forallowing  me  the 
privilege." 

"  And  are  you  satisfied  ?  " 

"Perfectly  satisfied,"  laughed  the  doctor. 

"  We-11,"  the  lawyer  relapsed  into  his  medi- 
tative air,  w  it  is  strange  how  blindly  people 
will  persist  in  setting  traps  for  others  exactly  in 
their  own  path." 

"You  think  Mr.  Corry  and  the  others  will 
recall  their  opposition  to  the  employment  of 
the  men  elsewhere,  as  you  suggested?" 

"Undoubtedly."  The  word  was  slow  and 
emphatic,  and  a  smile  twinkled  under  the  bushy 
eyebrows.  "  Probably  they  will  compromise 
in  some  way  and  re-employ  some  of  the  men 
themselves,  though  for  a  time  the  civilities 


IN  THE  SAME  BOAT.  155 

between  the  two  parties  will  be  as  punctilious, 
and  their  love  for  each  other  as  great,  as  that 
of  two  duellists  who  are  watching  for  a  chance 
to  shoot  each  other ;  but  they  will  each  have 
learned  something  of  the  other's  marksman- 
ship." 

Comfortably  settling  himself  in  a  railway 
carriage  that  afternoon,  for  his  homeward 
journey,  Dr.  Kelsey  unexpectedly  encountered 
Mr.  Corry  as  a  seat-mate.  He  had  not  recog- 
nized the  curled-up  figure,  with  hat  drawn  low 
over  the  face,  in  time,  or  he  would  have 
avoided  a  meeting,  for  that  gentleman  was 
evidently  not  in  his  most  genial  humor.  Usu- 
ally his  manners  and  language  were  unexcep- 
tionable, but  when  he  remarked  upon  the 
disagreeable  day,  with  a  forcible  adjective,  and 
explained  that  he  had  a  headache  —  also  with 
an  adjective  —  as  a  reason  for  drawing  his  hat 
down  again  and  making  no  further  attempts 
at  conversation,  the  doctor  gladly  excused  him 
from  further  effort. 


IS6      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

He  had  quite  regained  his  equanimity  when 
they  chanced  to  meet  again,  several  days  later, 
at  Judge  Lyndal's. 

"By  the  way,  our  shops  are  all  running 
again,"  he  announced  carelessly  to  Miss  Lisle. 
"  I  mention  it  that  you  ladies  may  know  we 
are  ready  for  a  visit,  if  you  are  disposed  so 
to  honor  us.  Perhaps  Miss  Rachel  knew 
already?"  with  a  quick  glance. 

Miss  Rachel  did  not  commit  herself. 

"You  have  supplied  the  vacant  places, 
then  ?  "  she  questioned. 

"Oh,  yes." 

"And  what  has  become  of  those  other  men 
who  were  so  troublesome  ? "  asked  Annice 
Lisle. 

"Why  —  we  re-employed  some  of  them.  In 
fact  we  thought  it  better,  under  the  circum- 
stances, to  effect  a  compromise,"  explained 
Mr.  Corry  graciously.  "  They  are  fair  work- 
men —  we  had  nothing  to  complain  of  in  that 
line  —  and  they  are  ignorant,  you  know,  and 


IN  THE  SAME  BOAT.  157 

probably  did  not  understand  the  full  scope  of 
the  law  they  were  breaking.  They  need  work, 
and  they  have  families.  In  short,  we  thought  it 
wise  to  yield  a  little." 

"It  was  very  kind,"  said  Nan  admiringly. 
"I  hope  they  will  at  least  be  grateful." 

Rachel  and  the  doctor  exchanged  a  swift 
significant  glance  —  a  delicious  bit  of  con- 
fidence that  made  Dr.  Kelsey's  heart  throb. 
He  assured  himself,  as  he  rode  away,  that  it 
was  a  mere  happening,  and  that  his  feeling  con- 
cerning it  was  absurd.  Nevertheless,  he  felt 
the  thrill  to  his  finger-tips  whenever  he  remem- 
bered the  glance  of  those  dark-gray  eyes,  and 
it  consoled  him  under  the  disapproval  of  one  of 
his  most  persistent  patients,  who  dated  an  en- 
tirely new  ache  from  "  that  day  when  you  went 
off  so  unexpectedly  to  the  city,  upon  a  pressing 
errand  —  I  hope  it  was  a  pressing  errand  that 
took  you  from  your  duty,  Doctor  —  and  neg- 
lected to  call." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

A  TALE  UNTOLD. 

"T^vR.  KELSEY'S  patients  were  favored  with 

•*"-*^  flowers  that  season.  The  happening  of 
a  single  morning  grew,  no  one  quite  knew  why 
or  how,  into  an  established  custom,  and  the 
luxuriant  old  garden  on  the  hillside  sent  its 
choice  treasures  of  bloom  to  narrow  little  homes 
in  the  town  below  whenever  the  doctor  could 
be  the  messenger.  And  as  Mrs.  Lyndal's  ven- 
erable medical  adviser  was  fast  dropping  much 
of  his  practice  into  his  junior's  hands,  and  as 
Mrs.  Lyndal  graciously  acquiesced  in  the 
change,  the  elder  physician's  visits  grew  rare 
and  Dr.  Kelsey's  more  frequent. 

So,    through    many  mornings,    clusters  of 
dewy   blossoms   awaited  him  in  the   spacious 

158 


A   TALE  UNTOLD.  1 59 

hall  —  given  him  by  Rachel,  or,  if  she  by 
chance  were  absent,  placed  ready  for  his  find- 
ing. Annice  Lisle  began  to  question  whether, 
entertaining  such  romantic  fancies,  he  could 
be  sufficiently  practical  for  his  profession.  Yet 
nothing  could  have  been  more  matter-of-fact 
than  the  manner  in  which  these  floral  donations 
were  waited  for  and  received,  or  the  tone  in 
which  the  occasionally  added  request  was  pre- 
ferred —  "A  stray  blossom  for  the  carrier, 
Miss  Lyndal?"  .. 

These  last  —  rosebud,  pansy  or  spray  of 
dainty  whitebells,  as  Rachel's  passing  fancy 
suggested  —  he  placed  in  his  button-hole  "  as 
carelessly,"  Nan  averred,  "  as  he  would  cram 
vials  or  powders  in  his  pocket."  And  if,  when 
out  on  the  quiet  hillside  road,  they  received 
more  attentive  glances,  brushed  across  a  mous- 
tached  lip,  and  were  replaced  and  guarded 
with  jealous  care,  they  never  returned  to  tell 
the  story  —  foolish  story  at  which  the  doctor 
himself  muttered  "  Folly  ! " 


l6o      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

The  weeks,  slipping  by,  sent  Heman  back 
to  his  studies  again,  and  Nan  once  more  to  her 
city  home.  The  garden  lost  its  glories,  but 
the  trees,  in  compensation,  hung  out  their 
gayest  colors.  Mrs.  Shackles  had  changed 
the  contents  of  her  basket  from  the  latest  ber- 
ries to  roots  and  herbs,  and  finally,  as  the  frosts 
increased,  to  nuts. 

"An'  now  it's  comin'  'most  time  when  there 
ain't  one  airthly  thing  to  gather  unless  folks 
would  buy  snowballs ;  an'  I  hain't  saved  nigh 
enough  to  buy  a  warm  shawl  yet,  an'  I  need 
one,"  she  complained.  "It's  goin'  to  be  a 
dreadful  hard  winter  !  " 

Rachel  heard  that  last  sentence,  repeated 
in  various  forms,  from  many  different  sources 
as  she  talked  here  and  there  with  the  odd  ac- 
quaintances of  her  rambles,  or  saw,  as  she  did 
more  and  more  of  late,  those  who  on  different 
errands  sought  her  father  at  the  house.  It  was 
growing  to  be  her  share  of  the  road,  in  those 
days,  to  meet  and  know  of  the  troubled  anxious 


A   TALE  UNTOLD.  l6l 

ones  whom  she  could  not  help,  and  to  feel  a 
sense  of  guilt  in  the  sharp  contrast  of  her  own 
sheltered,  abundant  life. 

"  Do  not  try  to  carry  the  weight  of  all  the 
world's  woes,  Miss  Lyndal,"  laughed  Dr.  Kel- 
sey  meeting  her  in  the  hall  one  day  ;  "  it  is  too 
heavy  a  load."  Then,  noticing  and  trying  to 
read  her  clouded  face,  he  added  more  gravely, 
"One  only  can  do  that  —  has  done  it.  How- 
ever things  seem  to  go,  'the  King  never 
dies.'" 

She  smiled,  and  caught  the  comforting  of 
the  thought.  But  she  could  not  tell  him  of  that 
vague  but  painful  sense  of  responsibility  that 
rested  upon  her — the  feeling  of  guilt,  not  her 
own,  but  another's,  that  often  weighed  so  op- 
pressively and  made  the  luxuries  lavished 
upon  her  seem  almost  the  fruits  of  robbery.  A 
strange  humility  was  creeping  over  the  girl  in 
the  presence  of  those  whom  she  often  met  — 
those  to  whom  the  winter  had  indeed  grown 
hard.  She  knew  that  scant  wages  had  been 


1 62      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

still  further  reduced,  and  that  their  tardy  pay- 
ment lessened  them  yet  more.  Meanwhile  the 
treasurer's  beautiful  house  was  completed,  — 
whoever  had  furnished  foundations  or  walls,  — 
and  her  father  had  hundreds  of  dollars  to  spare 
for  his  many  plans  and  schemes.  There  was 
a  wrong  somewhere.  She  could  not  untangle 
the  vexed  question  and  read  it  plainly  ;  but  the 
pain  and  doubt  of  it  haunted  her,  and  brought 
sometimes  the  thought  that  she  would  willingly 
exchange  lots  with  some  of  those  in  the  little 
homes  along  the  line,  if  so  she  could  feel  free 
from  stain  and  thoroughly  honest.  Only  a  girl's 
morbid  fancies?  Assuredly  her  father  would 
have  said  so  had  her  thoughts  been  open  to  his 
inspection.  Even  her  occasional  questions  and 
remarks  aroused  him  one  day  to  an  unusually 
critical  scrutiny  of  her  face,  and  a  suggestion 
that  she  needed  change  and  something  to 
amuse  her  —  a  regret  that  she  had  not  returned 
to  the  city  with  Nan,  and  then  a  sudden  con- 
clusion :  "  I  suppose  you  are  puzzling  your  head 


A   TALE  UNTOLD.  163 

with  some  of  Heman's  impracticable  ministe- 
rial nonsense." 

The  utter  injustice  of  that  remark  provoked 
a  smile.  Heman  might  indeed  pray,  "Give  us 
this  day  our  daily  bread,"  as  he  had  always 
been  taught,  but  it  would  certainly  never 
have  occurred  to  him  to  add,  "And  keep  us 
from  trying  to  take  away  that  of  other  people." 

The  Judge  loved  his  daughter  —  after  his 
fashion,  and  when  he  had  leisure.  He  men- 
tally decided  that  all  girls  liked  company  and 
gayety,  of  course,  and  another  winter  some- 
thing different  from  life  in  that  quiet  old  place 
must  be  planned  for  her ;  and  then  he  straight- 
way forgot  the  matter  in  interests  more  absorb- 
ing. 

But  Rachel  was  content  to  be  in  her  home. 
Hers  was  a  healthful  nature,  however  her 
generous  heart  and  honest  soul  were  wounded 
by  their  surroundings.  She  needed  neither 
excitement  nor  constant  companionship.  River, 
hillside  and  wood,  in  their  glittering  winter 


164    RACHEL: s  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

beauty,  suited  her;  and  though  Dr.  Kelsey 
frequently  met  her  in  the  dwellings  of  some 
of  his  patients,  —  drawn  there  not  alone  by 
kindness  and  sympathy,  but  by  that  vague 
sense  of  some  reparation  due,  —  he  saw  her 
often  elsewhere,  in  the  long  rides  and  rambles 
that  now,  as  in  her  childhood,  were  her 
delight. 

Those  chance  meetings,  the  passing  saluta- 
tions, the  short  rides  or  walks  together,  the 
brief  interviews  in  her  home  and  elsewhere,  — 
grown  longer  of  late,  though  they  still  seemed 
so  brief,  — were  more  to  Rachel  than  she 
knew.  At  least  she  did  not  analyze  their 
pleasantness.  She  only  realized  that  the  pres- 
ence of  this  strong,  honest  manhood  made  her 
world  nobler  and  better ;  that  the  blithe,  cheery 
manner,  though  it  could  soften  to  tenderness 
when  needful,  held  for  her  the  healthful  fresh- 
ness of  a  sea-breeze.  His  straightforward 
earnestness  that  pierced  through  shams  to  the 
underlying  truth,  drew,  irresistibly,  her  confi- 


A   TALE  UNTOLD.  165 

dence  ;  and  the  consciousness  of  his  friendship 
was  growing  more  and  more  —  she  did  not 
know  or  question  why  —  into  a  thought  of 
hopefulness  and  strength.  There  was,  too,  a 
scarcely  recognized  feeling  that  if  the  doubts 
and  questions  that  troubled  her  should  grow 
too  heavy  to  be  borne  alone,  she  could  rely 
upon  his  ready  comprehension,  truth  and 
help. 

To  the  doctor  the  subject  stood  in  clearer 
light.  He  pondered  it  often,  pacing  up  and 
down  his  office,  or  staring  dreamily  into  the 
fire,  when  an  earnest  face  with  its  frame  of 
bright  hair  had  looked  up  at  him  from  the 
printed  pages  of  heavy  books,  and  obscured 
dry  treatises  on  tissues  and  molecules. 

Seeing  her,  day  after  day,  in  her  simple, 
girlish  grace,  learning  the  charm  of  her  pure 
thoughtful  womanliness,  watching,  as  they 
talked  together,  the  deepening  and  brightening 
of  the  gray  eyes  that  read  and  answered  his 
thoughts  so  swiftly,  it  seemed  only  natural  to 


1 66      R  AC  HE  US  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

love  her — nay,  impossible  to  do  otherwise. 
Then  he  felt  that  she  belonged  to  him  as  to  no 
other,  and  sure  of  his  power  and  right  to  win 
her.  But  there  were  other  hours,  away  from 
her,  in  his  office  or  on  lonely  rides,  when  he 
remembered  the  wealth  in  which  her  life  was 
cradled,  and  the  position  and  surroundings 
that  might  be  hers  at  will.  He  assured  him- 
self then  that  he  had  but  mistaken  her  frank 
friendship ;  that  his  love  for  her  was  folly, 
madness.  Their  paths  were  wholly  unlike, 
and  must  lie  forever  apart. 

The  latter  mood  held  the  other  in  abeyance, 
and  guarded  look  and  tone.  He  had  no  right 
to  lure  her,  if  indeed  he  could,  to  a  lot  that 
even  to  himself  looked  rugged  and  hard  in 
contrast  with  her  own.  True  it  held  the  sweet- 
ness of  honest  usefulness. 

"  But  that  she  cannot  miss.  A  life  like  hers 
is  in  itself  a  blessing,"  he  murmured,  watching 
her. 

The  old  battle  had  fought  itself  over,  one 


A   TALE  UNTOLD.  167 

wintry  day,  until,  weary  of  it  and  himself,  he 
abandoned  unsuccessful  attempts  to  study  or 
write,  and  forsook  his  office.  Swift  movement 
through  the  cold  air  would  cool  his  brain  and 
suit  his  mood,  he  fancied,  and  he  sought  the 
river,  skates  in  hand.  A  goodly  number  of 
skaters  were  there  before  him,  enjoying  what 
might  prove  the  last  sport  of  the  season,  for 
the  ice  was  already  broken  in  the  middle  of  the 
river,  though  a  wide  smooth  border  stretched 
out  from  the  shores. 

It  was  a  pretty  sight  —  the  blocks  of  ice 
piled  upon  the  bank,  the  clear  track  and  the 
flying  forms.  His  quick  eye  recognized  at 
once  one  slender,  gray-robed  figure,  brightened 
by  dashes  of  crimson  in  cap  and  trimmings,  as, 
a  little  apart  from  its  companions,  it  glided 
away  on  its  course!  The  motion  suited  her, 
he  thought.  Separate  from  all  others  she 
always  seemed  to  him.  He  watched,  but  did 
not  join  her.  She  had  not  seen  him,  and  he 
would  not  seek  her,  so  he  went  on  his  own 


i68 


RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 


swift  way  with  compressed  lips  and  resolute 
eyes  that  scarcely  told  of  pleasure-seeking. 

He  shunned  companionship  as  far  as  possi- 
ble, exchanging  only  brief  greetings  with  those 
whom  he  met,  and  skated  away  where  others 
were  not.  The  river  looked  dreary  in  its  ici- 
ness,  that  day,  and  the  hills,  between  which  it 
lay,  wore  an  air  of  desolateness  with  their 
gaunt  leafless  trees  and  patches  of  sharp 
rocks.  The  western  range  flung  long  shadows, 
but  the  eastern  caught  gleams  of  red  gold 
from  the  late  afternoon  sunshine. 

Up  and  down  the  long  smooth  course  the 
doctor  passed  — now  away  alone,  then  return- 
ing for  a  glimpse  of  one  slender,  graceful 
skater.  He  was  not  used  to  indulging  moods 
and  reveries,  but  he  gave  them  uncontrollable 
freedom  then,  and  let  fancy  whisper  gloomily 
that  his  life  must  be  like  this  hard,  cold  track, 
shut  in  by  barren  rugged  walls  of  duty. 

Suddenly  a  commotion  arose  among  the 
skaters  further  out.  There  were  shouts  and 


A   TALE  UNTOLD.  169 

cries,  a  confused  mingling  of  voices,  and  hur- 
rying to  and  fro,  that  attracted  even  Dr.  Kel- 
sey's  attention.  A  murmur  of — "Broken 
away!" — a  sharp  call,  "Oh,  be  quick!" 
drew  his  wandering  eyes.  A  mass  of  ice  had 
parted  from  the  main  body,  and  was  floating 
out  with  several  persons  upon  it.  One  quick 
glance  revealed  among  them  a  figure  in  gray 
and  crimson ;  and,  pausing  for  no  second 
glance,  he  turned  in  his  course  and  sped  rap- 
idly towards  it. 

The  floe  was  already  separated  from  the 
solid  ice  by  a  narrow  chasm  of  dark  water. 
Several  leaped  across  it  towards  the  shore  while 
the  doctor  was  making  his  way  to  the  place, 
but  a  chorus  of  halloos,  startled  and  question- 
ing, greeted  him  as,  with  one  swift  bound,  he 
cleared  the  black,  widening  line  in  an  oppo- 
site direction.  Neither  heeding  nor  hearing,  he 
swept  on  towards  Rachel,  who,  after  a  moment, 
recognizing,  advanced  to  meet  him.  She  hardly 
comprehended  until  then  what  had  happened. 


1 70      RACHEUS  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

"Come!  quick!"  he  uttered  hoarsely, 
breathless  from  the  effort  he  had  made,  but  hur- 
rying her  forward  while  the  steel  upon  his  own 
feet  seemed  still  to  hold  the  swiftness  of  wings. 

But  it  was  in  vain.  Reaching  once  more 
the  dividing  chasm,  a  single  look  showed  that 
the  feat  which  had  before  been  difficult  was 
now  impossible.  The  rapidly  widening  stream 
forbade  all  hope  of  crossing.  Others  who  had 
also  been  at  the  further  side  of  the  loosened 
mass  came  flying  to  the  verge,  and  paused  in 
dire  dismay  as  they  realized  that  the  chance 
of  escape  was  gone.  Five  in  all  remained  as 
occupants  of  the  treacherous  floating  island. 

For  a  moment  or  two  there  was  a  rapid  inter- 
change of  shouts — useless  directions,  fruitless 
appeals  or  words  of  encouragement.  Then, 
following  each  other  slowly,  the  party  at  last 
all  retreated  from  the  more  dangerous  margin 
to  the  centre  of  the  floe.  Rachel  looked  up  at 
her  companion  with  white  face,  but  with  steady 
eyes  still. 


A   TALE  UNTOLD  *7l 

"There  is  nothing  to  be  done — nothing  that 
we  can  do,"  he  said,  answering  their  question- 
ing. "We  must  wait  for  others." 

On  the  shore  the  groups  were  already  scatter- 
ing, clambering  up  the  bank,  and  flying  hither 
and  thither  to  spread  the  alarm  and  bring  assist- 
ance ;  though  what  successful  plan  of  help  or 
rescue  could  be  devised  it  was  difficult  to  fore- 
see. But,  with  that  little  trembling  hand  on 
his  arm,  Horace  Kelsey  felt  that  for  him  the 
situation,  in  all  its  peril,  held  compensating 
sweetness.  Yet  he  with  difficulty  repressed 
the  words  that  sprang  to  his  lips,  and  only 
strove  to  uphold  her  courage  with  what  hope 
he  could  offer. 

"I  do  not  understand  how  you  are  here,"  she 
said  wonderingly,  a  little  later,  when  the  first 
shock  and  bewilderment  of  their  situation  had 
so  far  passed  as  to  leave  room  for  surprise  at 
any  details.  "  I  did  not  know  you  were  on  the 
ice.  Surely  you  could  not  have  been  on  this 
part  of  it?" 


I72      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

"Not  until  a  few  minutes  ago.  I  saw  you, 
and  was  coming  to  join  you." 

He  did  not  tell  her  that  he  came  only  when 
he  saw  her  in  danger. 

"You  could  have  escaped  if  you  had  not 
stopped  for  me,"  she  said,  without  surmising  the 
whole  truth.  After  a  moment  she  added  in  a 
lower  tone,  "We  are  in  great  peril,  I  suppose, 
—  I  know  it  must  be  so ;  and  yet  we  are  in 
health  and  strength,  and  the  sweet,  every-day 
life  so  close  to  us,  —  I  cannot  realize  that  death 
is  near." 

"  And  life  is  very  sweet  to  you  ?  " 

It  was  not  wholly  an  interrogation,  but  she 
looked  up  questioningly.  Yet  when  she  had 
replied  she  had  substituted  another  word  for  his. 

"Yes,  life  is  —  precious." 

Why  should  it  not  be,  with  all  that  belonged 
to  hers  ?  For  his  own  —  But  earth's  sharp  con- 
trasts grew  strangely  dim  in  an  hour  like  this, 
and  he  remembered  remorsefully  the  dreary 
pictures  of  his  own  lot  he  had  drawn  but  a 


A   TALE  UNTOLD.  173 

little  while  before.  With  all  its  work,  its  hope, 
its  duty,  the  love  of  dear  ones  in  that  little 
home  far  away,  — its  possibilities  of  usefulness, 
even  if  it  held  no  brighter  possession,  —  how 
had  he  dared  to  call  it  barren  and  hard? 

The  sun  dropped  lower  behind  the  hills,  —  a 
great  red  ball  that  seemed  to  give  out  no 
warmth,  —  and  sank  out  of  sight,  while  the 
radiance  slowly  vanished  from  the  eastern  hill- 
tops. The  party  gathered  now  in  a  little  knot 
to  talk  of  their  chances,  possibilities  and  proba- 
bilities, to  surmise  and  hope ;  then  parted  to 
move  up  and  down  on  their  island,  and  so  bat- 
tle against  the  benumbing  power  of  the  keen 
winter  air.  Thus  a  weary  hour  passed, — it 
might  have  been  years,  so  slowly  it  crept,  — 
and  the  gray  twilight  deepened  around  them. 

"Are  you  very  cold?"  the  doctor  asked, 
raising  Rachel's  chilled  fingers  for  a  moment 
to  his  lips,  then  holding  both  her  hands  in  his 
own.  The  movement  was  a  passionate  caress, 
but  the  words  were  only  considerate  and  kind. 


174      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

"We  must  chafe  them  into  warmth.  You 
must  not  allow  chill  and  numbness  to  steal 
your  strength,  for  it  will  be  needed  presently. 
I  think  in  some  way  they  will  try  to  rescue  us 
at  the  bridge." 

"And  if  they  do  not?  If  they  cannot  help 
us  there?  "  she  asked. 

He  did  not  answer  directly  ;  only  said  slowly, 
after  a  moment's  pause, — 

"If  all  hope  fail,  when  we  are  sure  there  is 
nothing  more,  I  have  something  to  tell  you  — 
Rachel." 

She  scarcely  noticed  the  name,  did  not  won- 
der at  the  repressed  emotion  of  the  tone.  It 
was  no  time  for  commonplaces ;  intense  feel- 
ing belonged  to  such  an  hour. 

The  gray  deepened  into  darkness  around 
them,  the  stars  shone  out  clear  and  cold  in  the 
far-off  sky,  and  still  they  drifted  helplessly  on. 
The  afternoon  with  its  light,  its  safety  and 
companionship,  already  seemed  ages  away, 
so  long  this  dreadful  voyaging  appeared.  The 


•A   TALE  UNTOLD.  1 75 

cold  wind  swept  up  the  river  and  chilled 
them  through,  and  the  rattle  and  crashing  of 
ice  around  them,  with  the  movement  of  the 
water,  threatened  constantly  the  destruction  of 
their  frail  craft ;  and  every  jar  and  sound  was 
marked  as,  with  straining  eyes,  and  hearing 
sharpened  to  painful  intentness,  they  watched 
and  listened. 

They  were  not  left  to  solitude  and  darkness. 
As  night  fell,  fires  were  kindled  here  and  there 
along  the  shore,  throwing  their  red  glare  out 
over  the  water,  while  their  glow  along  the 
banks  showed  many  forms  moving  to  and  fro. 
Eager  voices  hailed  them,  too  —  cheering  hu- 
man voices,  though  wind  and  ice  so  often 
drowned  the  words.  Now  and  then  the  lighted 
windows  of  some  house  shone  upon  them, 
starlike,  from  the  land  as  they  passed,  telling 
of  home  comfort,  shelter  and  safety.  How 
common,  unthought-of  blessings,  held  so  light- 
ly but  yesterday,  had  suddenly  grown  to  ines- 
timable value  ! 


176      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

They  talked  but  little  as  the  weary  time 
lengthened,  —  thought  seemed  to  have  passed 
beyond  expression,  —  only  breaking  the  silence 
when  it  grew  intolerable.  At  length,  down 
the  river,  the  bridge  began  to  show  dimly,  a 
huge,  undefined  shape.  Then  suddenly  a 
light  flashed  out  upon  it,  another  and  another 
followed,  until  lanterns  were  swinging  every- 
where. Eagerly  every  eye  turned  in  that  direc- 
tion. Kind  hearts  and  strong  hands  were  wait- 
ing to  help  them  there,  but  what  would  they  do? 
What  could  they  do?  Was  any  salvation  pos- 
sible ?  Their  brittle  ice-boat  must  be  crushed 
to  pieces  against  those  massive  piers.  Every 
breath  became  a  prayer  as  they  floated  onward. 

"  Look  sharp  there  now  !  Catch  the  ropes  !  " 
shouted  hoarse  excited  voices  as  they  swept 
into  the  shadow  of  the  bridge. 

A  crash,  a  jar,  the  ice  swaying  and  crushing, 
then  stayed  for  a  moment.  The  doctor's  quick 
hand  seized  one  of  the  lowered  ropes,  and  his 
strong  arm  lifted  Rachel  forward. 


A   TALE  UNTOLD.  1 77 

"Quick!  place  your  foot  there,  your  arm 
through  this  loop." 

"  You  —  ?  "  she  began. 

But  the  prompt  imperative  tone  stopped  all 
parley. 

"  Be  quick  !     So  !     Hold  fast  now  !  " 

It  was  but  a  moment.  The  ice  trembled, 
whirled  and  crashed  upon  the  pier  again, 
piling  its  crumbling  fragments  high  around 
the  pitiless  stones ;  but  a  part  broke  away, 
shot  under  the  dark  arch  of  the  bridge,  and 
floated  out  down  the  river  again.  It  held  but 
two  persons. 

By  the  light  of  the  receding  lanterns  they 
looked  each  in  the  other's  face,  and  slowly 
realized  the  danger  passed  and  to  come  —  the 
hope  lost,  and  the  darkened  prospect  before 
them. 

"Well,  comrade,"  said  the  doctor's  vis-a-vis, 
drawing  a  long  breath,  and  trying  to  speak 
coolly  still,  though  his  voice  shook,  "we're  not 
dead  yet,  but  our  vessel  is  considerably  cir- 


1 78      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

cumscribed,  and  we  shan't  take  a  long  voyage 
on  it,  I'm  thinking." 

From  out  the  gloom  and  danger,  the  very 
shadow  of  death,  Rachel  found  herself  trans- 
lated at  once  to  light  and  safety.  Sympathiz- 
ing faces  and  kindly  questions  greeted  her  as 
she  stood  bewildered  and  trembling.  Then 
the  throng  moved  aside  for  some  one  to  pass ; 
her  father's  arms  enfolded  her,  and  his  voice, 
less  steady  than  usual,  exclaimed,  — 

"  My  daughter  ! " 

He  drew  her  toward  the  carriage  waiting 
near ;  but  she  awakened  to  full  consciousness 
with  that  movement,  and  swept  an  anxious 
glance  along  the  bridge,  recognizing  the  two 
who  had  been  rescued  with  her,  but  looking 
vainly  for  another. 

"Oh,  father!     Dr.  Kelsey?    He  saved  me." 

"  Everything  shall  be  done  that  can  be,  my 
dear.  There  are  two  still  on  the  ice.  But  you 
must  go  home  at  once.  You  are  not  safe  yet, 
after  this  terrible  exposure." 


A   TALE  UNTOLD.  1 79 

The  carriage  robes  were  piled  around  her, 
and  she  was  whirled  rapidly  away.  Her  father 
asked  some  questions,  which  she  answered  me- 
chanically ;  so,  also,  she  listened  while  he  told 
her  how  he  had  just  arrived  on  the  train,  and 
was  stepping  into  the  carriage  when  the  tidings 
met  him.  Her  eyes  steadily  turned  to  the 
windows,  watched  the  swaying  lanterns  on  the 
bridge  as  long  as  they  were  visible. 

In  the  great  house  on  the  hill  the  girl  re- 
ceived a  rapturous  welcome.  But  all  the 
warm  blankets  and  soothing  potions  that  faith- 
ful Peggy  could  devise  did  not  for  a  moment 
lull  her  nursling  to  forgetfulness,  until,  in  the 
early  dawn,  came  tidings.  Far  below  the 
town,  where  the  river  widened  rapidly  into 
the  bay,  a  brave  little  steam-tug  had  made  its 
way  through  the  rough  waters,  and,  with  great 
difficulty,  rescued  the  two  remaining  voyagers, 
benumbed,  almost  unconscious,  but  still  living. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

HERBS  AND  PROPHECIES. 

TT'S  an  ill  wind  that  blows  nowheres,"  solilo- 
•*•  quized  Mrs.  Shackles,  pausing  half-way 
up  the  hill-road  to  re-adjust  her  shawl  and 
change  her  basket  from  one  hand  to  the  other. 
"  It's  dreadful  for  folks  to  be  carried  off  on  ice, 
an'  such  a  fuss  an'  fishin'  for  'em  !  But  seem' 
they  have  been  in  the  cold  so  long,  it's  more'n 
like  they'll  need  a  power  of  boneset  or  mother- 
wort  or  some  sort  of  yarb-tea.  Leastways  they 
oughter,  that's  what  I  say  to  Humphrey,  an' 
I'm  bound  to  see." 

Arriving  at  the  house,  it  required  considera- 
ble manoeuvring  and  the  employment  of  skilful 
tactics  to  accomplish  her  object  —  an  interview 
with  the  young  lady  in  person.  She  had  a 
double  reason  for  desiring  this.  In  the  first 

180 


HERBS  AND  PROPHECIES.  l8l 

place,  she  was  more  sure  of  largess  from 
Rachel's  hand,  and,  besides,  she  really  had  a 
strong  affection  for  the  young  girl  who  had 
always  humored  and  been  kind  to  her  — 
treated  her  "like  folks  and  not  like  a  poor- 
house,"  as  she  assured  herself.  She  wanted 
to  see  with  her  own  eyes  how  she  looked,  after 
her  perilous  adventure. 

That  "  Peggy  Larrison"  —  her  contemptuous 
name  for  the  housekeeper — would  combat  her 
purpose,  she  had  a  strong  suspicion  amount- 
ing almost  to  certainty.  On  the  gravelled  walk 
she  paused  with  a  pretence  of  shifting  her  bas- 
ket once  more,  and  surveyed  the  citadel. 
Front  blinds  closed  —  no  one  in  that  part  of 
the  house  then.  She  followed  a  winding  walk 
around  to  a  wing  often  used  as  a  sitting-room, 
furtively  scanned  it,  and  then  innocently  started 
as  if  she  had  mistaken  her  way,  retraced  her 
steps,  and  passed  around  the  house  to  a  sunny 
piazza,  on  the  south.  There  a  low  French  win- 
dow revealed  within  a  cheery  open  fire,  and  a 


l82      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

comfortable  lounge  wheeled  before  it.  A  door 
opened  upon  the  piazza,  and  Mrs.  Shackles' 
summons  sounded  there  in  a  moment. 

Mistress  Larrison  answered  in  person,  and 
scarcely  looked  overjoyed  —  a  fact  that  did  not 
disturb  the  caller. 

"  Is  Miss  Rachel  here  ?  Land  sakes !  I 
mustn't  keep  the  door  open  a  minute  for  the 
wind  to  blow  on  her,"  and  she  pushed  in  and 
closed  it  behind  her  with  marvellous  alacrity. 

Then  she  felt  safe  ;  and  dropping  into  a  chair 
and  drawing  off  her  coarse  mittens,  she  held 
her  hands  to  the  comfortable  blaze  — scratched, 
knotted,  calloused  hands.  If  they  did  solicit 
help,  they  had  also  toiled,  and  life  had  been 
hard. 

"  Sakes,  child !  I'm  glad  to  see  ye  safe  on 
that  sofy,  an'  not  a-sailin'  off  on  an  icicle ! 
Didn't  know  you  was  one  of  'em  till  this  noon, 
an'  then  says  I  to  Humphrey,  '  I'll  go  up.  It's 
like  she'll  need  some  boneset  now  if  she's 
ever  a-goin'  to.'  '  That's  right,'  says  he,  '  al'ays 


HERBS  AND  PROPHECIES.  183 

take  time  by  the  flintlock.'  An'  says  I,  '  Hum- 
phrey Shackles,  time'll  be  bald-headed  afore 
you  ever  take  it  by  any  kind  of  a  lock.'  An' 
so  it  will,  too  —  that's  why  I  come.  It's  dreadful 
cold,  an'  I  felt  powerful  weak  to-day  to  walk 
such  a  ways,  but  I  thought  you  might  be  a- 
needin'  that  motherwort." 

"No,"  laughed  Rachel,  "I  am  doing  nicely 
without  it ;  but  I  think  we  must  buy  a  few 
bunches,  since  you  were  kind  enough  to  bring 
it." 

"  Yes,  I  would  child ;  it's  more'n  like  you'll 
need  it  next  time,"  responded  Mrs.  Shackles, 
cheerfully  resigned  to  the  postponement. 
"  Boneset's  'mazin'  good  for  aches.  I'd  like  to 
took  some  myself  t'other  night,  only  I  hadn't 
any  sugar  to  put  in  it,  —  an'  it's  'most  killin' 
without  sugar,  —  so  I  had  to  do  without,  bad  as 
I  needed  it.  An'  I  hain't  got  none  yet." 

"  Peggy  can  giye  y°u  some  to  take  home 
with  you,  perhaps,"  suggested  Rachel  with 
proper  gravity. 


184      RACHEL'S  S  PI  ARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

"  Humph  !  Of  course  if  you  wish  it,  Miss 
Rachel,"  answered  Mistress  Peggy,  half  pro- 
voked, half  amused.  "  Does  it  take  any  butter 
or  milk  or  anything  else  to  make  that  herb-tea 
to  your  taste,  Mrs.  Shackles  ?  I'm  going  out  to 
the  kitchen  now,  and  I  might  as  well  put  them 
all  up  at  once." 

"Yes,  put  up  some  parcels  for  her,"  laughed 
Rachel,  but  with  kindly  glance  falling  on  the 
gray  hair  and  worn  hands. 

"  'Bliged  to  ye,  child,  I  jest  am  !  "  said  the  old 
woman  brightening.  "  Don't  know  how  a 
body'd  get  along  winters,  when  there  ain't  no 
berries  nor  nothin',  if  'twasn't  for  neighbors. 
'Cause  I  get  to  needin'  a  good  many  things, — 
tea  and  shoes,  —  an'  I  won't  beg,  so  I  don't  have 
no  prospeck  of  gettin'  none  unless  somebody 
finds  it  out  accidental  like.  Wasn't  you  most 
froze  to  death  sailin'  ofFthat  way?"  she  asked, 
suddenly  changing  the  subject.  "An'  that 
(doctor —  I  'clare  for't  doctors  is  the  most  curious- 
est  mortals  !  I  s'pose  he  thought  if  everybody 


HERBS  AND  PROPHECIES.  185 

aboard  was  goin'  to  freeze  or  drown  they'd 
need  a  doctor  along  to  take  care  on  'em,  though 
I  don't  see  how  he  calc'lated  he  was  goin'  to  be 
able  to  do  it.  But  they  said  the  way  he  le'pt 
across  onto  that  ice  jest  when  everybody  else 
was  skippin'  off,  it  was  astonishin'." 

"  When  ?  "  asked  Rachel,  rousing  to  sudden 
interest. 

"  Why,  jest  after  it  broke  loose,  an'  was  float- 
in'  off,  bless  ye  !  Didn't  you  see  him  ?  They 
said  he  come  tearin'  like  a  whirlwind  down 
from  somewheres  near  the  shore,  an'  jumped 
onto  that  floatin'  ice  like  it  was  his  last  chance 
for  life.  Like  to  'a'  been  the  last  thing  he 
ever  did  do,  too,  'cause  he  was  pretty  well 
used  up  when  that  steam-tug  took  him  off. 
Folks  asked  him  what  he  jumped  on  for,  an' 
all  he'd  tell  'em  was  that  he'd  expected  to  jump 
off  again.  Now  that's  that  I  call  bein' dread- 
ful venturesome  ! " 

A  rosy  flush  crept  over  Rachel's  face.  She 
laughed  nervously,  and  tears  filled  her  eyes. 


l86      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

"I  think  Mrs.  Larrison  will  soon  have  the 
packages  ready  for  you  —  and  I  am  not  very 
strong  to-day,"  she  said,  abruptly  dismissing 
her  visitor. 

Mrs.  Shackles  was  quite  ready  then  to  ac- 
cept the  implied  direction  and  follow  the 
housekeeper  to  the  kitchen,  and  once  there  she 
was  in  no  haste  to  depart.  Shelter  from  the 
cold  wind  without,  a  comfortable  chair,  the 
pleasant  warmth  and  the  tokens  of  abundance 
that  surrounded  her  on  every  side,  were  all 
seductive.  She  arranged  with  what  she  con- 
sidered unusual  skill  her  hints  and  suggestions 
of  articles  that  would  be  acceptable,  and  when 
the  housekeeper  could  no  longer  be  induced 
to  understand,  she  lingered  still,  basking  in 
the  cheeriness  of  the  fire,  and  bestowing  her 
conversation  impartially  upon  whoever  hap- 
pened to  come  within  range.  She  discussed 
the  weather,  the  ice  on  the  river,  the  late  acci- 
dent, and  dropped  finally  upon  an  inexhausti- 
ble topic  —  the  times. 


HERBS  AND  PROPHECIES.  187 

"  Land  sakes  !  but  they're  hard.  Don't  look 
much  like  it  here,  but  there's  plenty  of  folks 
that  knows  it.  Bad  weather  an'  lots  out  of 
work.  An'  them  that  has  any  is  screwed  down 
one  month,  an'  pinched  down  a  little  more 
another  month,  an'  don't  get  what  scantiness  is 
a-comin'  to  'em  when  they'd  oughter,  so  they 
can't  calc'late  on  nothin'.  I  s'pose  if  that 
young  preacher  man  was  'round  he'd  think 
every  thing'd  go  all  right,  an'  they'd  get  over 
knowin'  they  needed  vittles  an'  clo'es  if  he  could 
preach  'em  one  of  his  sermons  on  the  Frinch 
revolution,  or  somethin'.  There  is  folks  that 
think  they  could  mend  all  the  rents  an'  breaks 
in  creation  if  they  jest  could  get  at  'em  with 
their  little  brush  an'  bottle  of  glue. 

"  Tell  'em  to  'conomize  !  Sakes  !  why,  they 
can't  unless  they've  got  somethin'  to  'conomize 
on.  Well,  things'll  come  to  a  stickin'  p'int  yet 
—  yes,  sooner'n  most  folks  think.  Things  are 
a-brewin'  an'  a-brewin',  an'  they'll  be  heard  from 
some  day.  Some  folks'll  be  'mazin'  'stonished." 


1 88      RACHEUS  S  PI  ARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that?  "  questioned  a 
rosy-cheeked  maid,  pausing  broom  in  hand, 
impressed  more  by  the  speaker's  emphatic  nods 
than  by  her  words. 

"  Mean  'zactly  what  I  say,"  replied  Mrs. 
Shackles,  taking  care  to  say  nothing  exactly, 
and  not  quite  sure  what  she  did  mean,  but 
growing  more  mysterious  on  that  account.  "  I 
don't  tell  all  I  hear.  There's  some  things  I 
know,  an'  more  I  don't ;  but  every  see-saw  has 
got  two  ends  to  it,  an'  when  one  of  'em  comes 
up  the  other'll  go  down.  Wait  an'  you'll  see." 

The  girl  stared  for  a  moment  in  round-eyed 
wonder,  and  then  hastened  away  in  obedience 
to  a  call.  But  the  old  woman  talked  on  with 
or  without  a  listener.  She  carefully  examined 
her  faded  dress,  and  dried  by  the  fire  every 
part  that  could  possibly  have  acquired  damp- 
ness from  contact  with  the  light  snow  on  the 
hillside ;  she  warmed  her  feet  slowly  and 
thoroughly,  placing  but  one  at  a  time  upon  the 
fender;  pinned  and  unpinned  her  shawl, 


HERBS  AND  PROPHECIES.     •         189 

arranged  and  re-arranged  the  bundles  Mrs.Lar- 
rison  had  given  her,  and  lingered  until  every 
pretext  for  tarrying  was  exhausted,  and  the 
lengthened  shadows  of  the  great  leafless  trees 
warned  her  of  approaching  sunset.  Even  then 
she  went  reluctantly,  pausing  on  the  threshold 
with  a  bright  thought. 

"  Tell  Miss  Rachel  I'll  be  sure  to  come  round 
pretty  often  an'  see  how  she's  gettin'  on,  so  if 
she  needs  any  roots  or  sassafrax  or  anything, 
she  can  get  it  handy.  I  like  to  be  'bligin', 
'specially  when  folks  is  sick,  if  my  shoes  do  be 
pretty  bad  to  walk  so  far,  an'  I  can't  tell  when 
I'll  get  no  more.  I  wears  sevens." 

She  wisely  closed  the  door  without  waiting  for 
reply,  and  departed  with  the  cheering  thought 
that  she  would  at  least  be  expected  again. 

Rachel  watched  her  going  down  the  hill  as, 
from  her  nook  among  the  sofa-pillows,  she  had 
watched  every  one  who  passed  along  the  road 
that  afternoon.  She  was  not  looking  for  any 
one,  certainly  not  for  the  one  of  whom  she 


19°      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

was  thinking  most.  The  old  woman's  story 
had  explained  his  presence  with  her  on  the 
ice,  but  it  had  aroused  a  whirl  of  thoughts 
and  questions  that  she  could  neither  still  nor 
answer.  She  had  heard  nothing  beyond  the 
tidings  of  his  safety  in  the  early  morning,  but 
she  assured  herself  that,  even  with  his  vigorous 
strength  and  power  of  endurance,  it  would  be 
days  before  he  could  resume  his  round  of  duty  ; 
yet  all  the  while  her  gray  eyes  watched  the 
road. 

To  see  him  again  his  own  strong,  blithe  self, 
moving  once  more  in  an  every-day  world, 
would  banish  that  horrible  vision  of  darkness 
and  cold  that  haunted  even  yet  her  closed  eyes, 
she  thought.  By  some  strange  fascination  she 
found  all  her  reveries  continuing  that  perilous 
voyage  —  wondering  what  would  have  been 
had  no  rescue  reached  her  at  the  bridge,  and 
she  also  had  been  swept  through  the  danger- 
ous arch  down  the  river?  What  was  it  he 
would  have  said  to  her  when  he  deemed  all 


HERBS  AND  PROPHECIES.  191 

hope  gone?  His  words,  unpondered  at  the 
time,  recurred  to  her  now.  Again  and  again 
she  assured  herself  that  it  was  nothing  —  her 
hand  but  laid  upon  his  lips  to  restore  its  vanish- 
ing warmth ;  his  words  but  a  deferring  all  talk 
of  desperate  measures  until  they  should  find 
themselves  indeed  in  extremis.  However  she 
argued  it  down,  the  question  returned,  What 
would  he  have  said  when  no  hope  of  life 
remained? 

Old  Mrs.  Lyndal,  insisting  that  her  grand- 
child should  pass  the  earlier  hours  of  the  day 
in  her  luxurious  invalid  room,  —  the  only  one 
in  the  house,  she  fancied,  where  absolute 
repose  could  be  obtained,  —  greatly  regretted 
that  such  shock  and  exposure  had  been  borne. 

"Though  all  escaped,  it  is  exceedingly  un- 
fortunate that  it  ever  happened,"  she  said. 

But  even  she  noticed  that  the  girl,  with  eyes 
fixed  on  the  glowing  coals,  did  not  answer. 
If  she  only  knew  —  there  might  be  words  worth 
going  down  to  the  gates  of  death  to  hear  ! 


I92      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

But  it  was  nothing.  Dr.  Kelsey  called  in  a 
day  or  two,  as  usual.  Rachel  had  dreamed, 
in  girlish  fashion,  of  that  first  meeting  —  of  the 
way  in  which  she  would  thank  him  for  the  self- 
forgetfulness,  the  promptness  and  courage  that 
had  secured  her  safety,  and  —  should  she  dare 
to  allude  to  the  way  in  which  he  had  come  to 
her?  But  it  happened  not  at  all  as  she  had 
planned.  He  came,  in  his  accustomed  way, 
to  visit  Mrs.  Lyndal,  and  Rachel  met  him  in 
her  room. 

"  I  wish  you  would  also  bestow  some  atten- 
tion upon  my  granddaughter  this  morning,  Dr. 
Kelsey,  and  prescribe  proper  tonics  or  restora- 
tives," said  the  old  lady  in  her  stately,  deliber- 
ate fashion.  "  It  is  impossible  that  Miss  Lyndal 
should  not  have  been  greatly  shaken  and  pros- 
trated by  her  exposure  the  other  night — which 
only  your  courage  and  presence  of  mind  pre- 
vented from  resulting  in  a  fearful  calamity." 

The  doctor  turned  and  met  Rachel's  extended 
hand. 


HERBS  AND  PROPHECIES.  Ip3 

"I  do  not  know  how  to  thank  you,"  she 
faltered. 

"  I  am  glad  of  it.  Pray  do  not  try  to  learn," 
he  laughed;  then  added  more  gravely,  "You 
must  not  overrate  the  most  natural  of  acts. 
In  so  far  as  I  was  of  any  service  to  you,  the 
deed  was  its  own  full  recompense." 

He  was  his  cool,  quiet,  ordinary  self,  recog- 
nizing, apparently,  no  occasion  for  gratitude. 
He  inquired  after  her  health  in  half  friendty, 
half  professional  style,  adverting  but  slightly 
to  their  adventure,  and  laughing  a  little  at  the 
sensation  the  papers  had  made  of  it.  Under 
his  calm  manner  her  glowing  grateful  thought 
could  find  no  expression  beyond  a  few  brief 
sentences  that  sounded  to  herself  exceedingly 
tame  and  commonplace. 

"We  do  not  forget  what  we  owe  you,  Dr. 
Kelsey,  but  I  cannot  bear  to  think  of  the  danger, 
even  yet,"  said  Mrs.  Lyndal  shudderingly. 

"You  are  right.  It  is  better  not  to  recall  it," 
assented  the  doctor. 


194      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

Then  the  subject  dropped.  How  foolish  of 
her  to  have  thought  of  anything  more  !  the 
girl  murmured  to  herself  with  a  causeless  flush 
on  her  cheeks.  Her  imagination  had 'grown 
feverish  and  wild  with  the  intense  excitement 
of  those  few  hours  :  that  was  all.  She  had  not 
been  quite  herself,  or  such  insane  fancies 
would  never  have  floated  through  her  brain, 
she  whispered  to  quiet  her  womanly  pride  ;  and 
then  resolutely  strove  to  forget  all  troublesome 
wondering  and  dreaming  in  the  old  avocations 
that  had  healthfully  busied  head  and  hands. 
Yet,  through  the  days,  when  her  eyes  fell  now 
and  then  upon  those  determinedly  busy  hands, 
some  old  words  of  Mrs.  Browning's  —  mean- 
ingless words  to  her,  and  she  could  not  tell 
why  they  so  haunted  her  —  repeated  them- 
selves persistently : 

"  Kissed 

The  fingers  of  this  hand  wherewith  I  write, 
And,  ever  since,  it  grew  more  clean  and  white, 
Slow  to  world-greetings,  quick  with  its  '  Oh,  list! ' 
When  angels  speak." 


HERBS  AND  PROPHECIES.  19$ 

When  Judge  Lyndal  first  met  Dr.  Kelsey 
after  that  eventful  evening  he  expressed  his 
"  sense  of  great  indebtedness "  in  fitting  and 
proper  language,  without  interruption.  Judge 
Lyndal  was  not  one  to  be  interrupted  in  any 
speech  he  began  to  make  ;  it  must  needs  have 
its  course.  Yet  Dr.  Kelsey  did  not  find  it  as 
oppressive  as  Rachel's  unfinished,  stammering 
sentences  had  been.  He  even  found  a  queer 
thought  of  addresses  before  corporations  and 
stockholders  flitting  through  his  mind  while 
he  listened  courteously,  and  responded  as 
briefly  as  possible. 

In  truth,  the  Judge  did  feel  a  weight  of  obli- 
gation that  was  somewhat  burdensome.  He 
disliked  debts  —  personal  ones  ;  if  it  could  have 
been  shifted  to  the  company,  it  would  have 
been  a  great  relief.  The  chief  trouble  was 
that  there  appeared  no  immediate  way  of  liqui- 
dating this  claim.  If  the  doctor  had  been  a 
man  to  who  he  could  have  offered  money, 
and  so  settled  the  matter,  or  if  he  had  been 


196   RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

nearly  or  remotely  connected  with  the  road,  so 
that  some  lucrative  position  could  have  been 
bestowed  upon  him,  and  thus  the  Judge's  ap- 
preciation of  the  service  he  had  rendered  be  at 
once  handsomely  and  finally  expressed,  it 
would  have  been  an  infinite  relief.  As  it  was, 
he  could  but  utter  his  thanks  in  words  and  a 
clasp  of  the  hand,  and  wait. 

It  was  only  waiting.  The  Judge  had  a  creed 
that  all  benefits  were  really  remunerable ;  that 
all  services  rendered  by  one  man  to  another 
would,  sooner  or  later,  present  their  claim  for 
payment  in  some  shape  or  other.  And  this 
would  probably  prove  no  exception.  Some- 
time, undoubtedly,  some  favor  or  bestowment 
would  be  expected  of  him,  without  mention, 
but  in  remembrance,  of  this  rescue  of  his 
daughter  ;  he  should  grant  it,  and  the  obliga- 
tion would  be  cancelled.  Meanwhile,  the  im- 
possibility of  making  any  immediate  return 
greatly  increased  his  respect  for  Dr.  Kelsey. 


CHAPTER  X. 

TWO   STRONG  HANDS. 

TT  was  a  dreary  day,  the  sky  gray  with  clouds 
from  which  fell  a  heavy  mist  that  never 
deepened  into  rain,  but  had  fallen  steadily  since 
early  morning,  penetrating  everywhere  with  its 
chill  and  damp,  and  pressing  back  upon  the 
little  town  the  black  smoke  from  stacks  and 
chimneys.  In  the  great  yard  around  the  shops 
the  general  cheerlessness  was  intensified. 
Sooty  engines  stood  here  and  there,  some  puff- 
ing sullenly,  others  black  and  lifeless.  Trucks, 
disabled  cars,  switches,  implements,  all  were 
chill  and  slippery  with  the  clinging  damp. 
The  great  arched  doorways  of  the  buildings 
looked  dim  and  shadowy  enough  to  be  the  en- 
trances to  caverns,  while  out  from  the  foundry 
the  furnace  fires  showed  only  a  dull  red  glare. 

IQ7 


198      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

Smoke,  damp,  chill  and  dreariness  over 
everything,  —  a  heavy  oppressive  atmosphere 
that  pressed  upon  spirits,  as  upon  the  outer 
world,  shutting  out  light  and  hopefulness. 

"  Never  saw  anything  like  this  wretched 
fog,"  muttered  a  man  in  the  yard  as  a  wet  bar 
slipped  from  his  grasp. 

"Unless  it  is  the  company  itself — a  great, 
cold,  heavy  hand,  crushing  everything  under 
it  down,  down,"  answered  his  companion  with 
lowered  voice  —  a  man  with  keener,  more  intel- 
ligent face. 

Joe  Baines  heard  them,  but  they  paid  no 
attention  to  him  —  scarcely  any  one  about  the 
place  did.  All  talked  before  him,  seldom  any 
one  to  him,  since  he  manifested  little  inclina- 
tion to  join  their  conversation,  and  equally 
small  comprehension  of  their  topics. 

"  A  fellow  like  a  crow-bar  —  good  for  heavy 
work,  if  somebody  furnishes  the  brains  to  put 
him  to  use,"  one  of  them  said  of  him  ;  and  the 
verdict  was  generally  accepted. 


TWO  STRONG  HANDS.  199 

But  Joe  felt  the  gloom  of  this  day.  The 
days  in  the  yard  had  been  growing  more  and 
more  dreary  of  late,  though  he  scarcely  knew 
why.  He  had,  in  truth,  understood  but  little 
of  the  talk  of  "  per  cent  off,"  "  reduction  "  and 
"  cutting  down  "  that  he  heard  all  around  him. 
The  terms  so  freely  used  by  the  others  had  no 
very  clear  meaning  for  him  ;  but  he  knew  when 
his  wages  fell  short,  again  and  again,  of  what 
he  had  expected  ;  when  all  his  and  Kitty's  slow 
counting,  laying  out  dollar  by  dollar  —  pitifully 
few  !  —  on  the  rough  table,  their  two  beads  bent 
above  it,  failed  to  make  the  pittance  amount  to 
what  it  had  done  the  month  before. 

He  knew  what  the  falling  short  meant,  too 
—  that  the  pairs  of  small  stout  shoes,  so  sorely 
needed,  so  long  promised  and  looked  forward 
to,  could  not  be  purchased  ;  that  Hitty's  tired, 
patient  fingers  must  still  patch  the  garments 
not  worth  patching,  only  that  no  other  could 
be  supplied.  Such  simple,  homely  little  plans 
of  outlay  !  but  they  had  meant  much  in  that 


200      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

old  railway-car,  and  they  were  thwarted.  Joe 
wondered  silently  at  first,  and  then  asked  a 
fellow-workman  : 

"  Why  don't  I  get  so  much  money  from  'em 
as  I  did?" 

"Why,  because  there's  been  a  reduction  — 
ten  per  cent.  Hain't  you  found  that  out  before  ? 
Tisn't  you,  it's  all  of  us." 

Joe  pondered,  not  much  enlightened. 

"  Yes ;  they  says  something  like  that  to  me 
at  the  office.  I  didn't  know.  What  do  they 
do  it  for?"  he  asked  again  directly. 

"What  for?  Why,  to  squeeze  a  little  more 
out  of  our  pockets  to  put  into  their  own,  where 
there  are  enough  sight  more  dollars  now  than 
we'll  ever  have  coppers.  The  treasurer  wants 
a  new  steeple  to  his  house,  maybe,  or  the 
president  a  finer  palace-car  to  ride  in." 

If  Joe  did  not  fully  understand  the  language, 
and  accepted  the  last  sentences  literally,  he 
did  comprehend  the  bitterness  of  the  man's 
tone  ;  that  held  a  meaning  that  made  itself  felt, 


TWO  STRONG  HANDS.  2OI 

and,  slowly,  besides  his  disappointment,  there 
began  to  grow  and  rankle  a  sense  of  wrong. 
So,  though  he  did  not  know  the  signs  of  dull 
times,  or  foresee,  as  did  others,  any  other  effects 
that  might  follow,  the  anxiety,  dissatisfaction 
and  foreboding  around  him  pressed  upon  him 
also  in  a  vague,  indefinite  way.  He  wondered, 
that  day,  what  the  two  men,  talking  together, 
meant  by  a  heavy,  crushing  hand?  Yet,  while 
he  wondered,  he  seemed  to  feel  something  of 
its  weight. 

But  he  was  utterly  unprepared  for  what 
came  at  nightfall  —  his  discharge.  There  had 
seemed  so  much  coming  and  going  in  the  great 
shops,  such  an  endless  amount  to  do,  so  much 
wealth  back  of  it  all,  that  it  had  never  occurred 
to  him  that,  having  once  secured  a  place,  he 
could  not  stay  there  so  long  as  he  faithfully 
performed  the  work  assigned  him.  He  looked 
blankly  in  the  face  of  the  one  who  told  him. 
It  was  not  a  pleasant  task,  that  agent's ;  he 
was  but  obeying  orders,  he  explained.  There 


202      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

was  no  great  press  of  business  just  now ;  they 
were  reducing  the  force  of  workmen,  and  some 
others  from  the  yard  and  shops  would  be  sent 
away.  Then  he  grew  impatient  at  the  bewil- 
dered stare,  and  cut  his  communication  short 
by  telling  him  where  and  when  to  apply  for 
the  money  due  him. 

"  I  dunno  —  the  folks  has  to  live  —  I  dunno 
what'll  I  do,"  stammered  Joe,  blundering  into 
speech  at  last,  and  drawing  his  hand  across 
his  forehead,  as  if  the  mist  of  the  day  were 
creeping  over  his  brain. 

"Well,  I  don't  know  about  that,  my  man; 
it's  much  the  same  with  everybody,  I  suppose. 
I'm  sorry ;  but  you  will  have  to  look  about  and 
find  what  you  can  do.  You've  a  pair  of  good 
strong  hands  to  work  with." 

There  was  a  touch  of  contempt  in  the  good- 
natured  pity  of  the  voice.  Why  not  take  things 
like  a  man?  Where  was  the  use  of  whining? 

Good  strong  hands  !  Joe  looked  at  them  as 
he  walked  slowly  homeward  ;  looked  at  them 


TWO  STKONG  HANDS.  203 

again  in  the  evening,  after  he  had  told  Hitty, 
and  she  sat  sewing  with  that  anxious  unchild- 
like  wrinkle  between  her  brows,  and  grave 
lines  about  her  mouth.  He  spread  out  the 
broad  palms  and  the  great  rough  ringers. 
They  were  his  only  capital,  his  one  chance; 
all  the  dependence  of  his  little  household  —  old 
Daddy,  Hitty  and  Meg's  children. 

"Joe,"  said  Hitty,  looking  wistfully  at  her 
brother's  heavy  face,  "mebby  she  could  get 
you  in  somewheres  ?  " 

"The  Judge's  darter?"  Joe  slowly  shook 
his  head.  "  'Tain't  no  use.  They  don't  want 
nobody  in  any  of  the  places  now :  they  said 
so." 

He  had  a  vague  idea  that  the  fact  of  Miss 
Lyndal's  agency  in  securing  the  place  would 
have  held  it  for  him  if  anything  could,  and 
since  that  had  not  sufficed,  all  hope  of  other 
work  about  the  shops  was  vain. 

The  next  day  he  wandered  through  the 
little  old  town,  here  and  there,  up  and  down, 


204      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

seeking  for  work.  But  nobody  wanted  help 
—  at  least  his  help.  He  was  told  so  in  a 
variety  of  ways,  civil,  careless  or  gruff,  but 
the  import  was  always  the  same.  The  days 
grew  drearily  alike  —  a  continual  wandering, 
a  monotonous  repetition  of  the  one  inquiry, 
and  always  the  same  reply.  Hitty  presently 
ceased  to  question  when  he  came  home  at 
night  to  the  meagre  supper  —  growing  more 
and  more  scant  as  the  days  passed,  for  the 
poor  little  housewife  was  economizing  their 
slender  store  to  the  utmost.  One  look  at  his 
dull  unlighted  face  told  the  cheerless  story, 
and  she  sighed,  and  stayed  her  burdened,  pa- 
tient heart  on  to-morrow  —  always  to-morrow. 

It  was  hard,  waiting  thus,  with  that  sick- 
ening, gnawing  anxiety  slowly  devouring 
strength  and  hope,  to  bestow  even  the  sem- 
blance of  interest  upon  Daddy's  grand  vaga- 
ries, that  grew  only  more  querulously  import- 
unate as  the  days  grew  harder. 

"  Don't  ye  s'pose  it'll  come  next  week,  Hitty, 


T WO  STRONG  HANDS.  205 

my  big  prize  —  how  many  thousings?  Won't 
it,  child?" 

"  Mebby,  Daddy. 

"An'  we'll  have  houses  an'  new  clo'es  an' 
dinners  with  meat  —  we  don't  have  none  no 
more.  Hitty,"  fretfully,  "if  you  was  to  tell 
them  stores  'bout  my  money  a-comin',  wouldn't 
they  let  ye  have  meat?" 

"  I'm  'fraid  not,  Daddy  ;  we'd  better  wait." 

Joe  extended  his  search  into  the  country, 
going  out  first  in  one  direction,  then  in  another. 
But  there  was  little  work  to  be  obtained  among 
the  farmers  at  that  season,  and,  in  truth,  the 
large,  awkward,  heavy-faced  man,  poorly 
clothed,  and  accompanied  by  his  great  gaunt 
dog,  was  not  a  prepossessing  applicant.  More 
than  one  timid  dame  fancied  the  household 
would  scarcely  sleep  securely  if  he  were 
beneath  its  roof.  This  he  did  not  know,  but 
he  soon  knew,  by  painful  experience,  that 
houses  or  even  out-buildings  where  he  could 
obtain  a  place  to  sleep  by  honestly  asking  for 


2O6      RACHEL }S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

it  were  very  few,  so  he  adopted  the  alternative 
of  omitting  the  formality  of  a  permission,  and 
secreting  himself  when  and  where  he  could. 
One  night  he  crept  into  a  barn,  and,  beguiled 
by  the  unusual  luxury  of  a  bed  in  the  hay,  and 
wearied  by  his  journeying,  he  slept  late,  and 
was  only  aroused  in  the  morning  by  a  rude 
shake,  and  a  voice  demanding  in  no  gentle 
tones : 

"  Halloo  !     What  are  you  doing  here  ?  " 

"  Sleepin'  —  I  guess."  Joe  sat  up  and  look- 
ed into  the  irate  face  of  the  proprietor  as  if  he 
were  not  sure  about  it.  "  I  had  to  sleep  some- 
wheres." 

"Well,  I  didn't  build  my  barn  for  a  hotel, 
and  I'd  like  to  know  how  you  got  into  it.  Be 
off  now,  and  don't  send  any  more  of  your  gang 
here,  for  I'll  warrant  you  the  door  will  be 
locked  another  night.  This  is  no  place  for 
tramps." 

"  If  you  could  anyways  tell  me  where  there 
is  a  right  place  for  me,  I'd  be  off  mighty  quick," 


TWO  STRONG  HANDS.  2O7 

said  Joe,  slowly  brightening  into  argument. 
"For  I've  looked  a  long  while,  an'  I  hain't 
found  none  yet." 

It  was  a  very  simple  observation,  but  the 
farmer  found  it  not  quite  easy  to  answer. 

"  Why,  there  ought  to  be  somewhere,  if  you 
are  willing  to  work,"  he  said,  somewhat  molli- 
fied. "  More  than  likely  you  are  not,  though." 

Joe  looked  down  at  his  hands.  What  were 
they  for  if  not  for  work  ?  It  began  to  seem  as 
if  they  had  been  put  into  a  world  where  they 
did  not  belong.  The  farmer's  eyes  followed 
the  mute  glance. 

"  Well,  no,  they  don't  look  as  if  they  had 
mostly  been  kept  idle,"  he  admitted  as  if  a 
question  had  been  asked.  "  There's  my  wood- 
pile over  there,  and  if  you've  a  mind  to  earn  a 
breakfast  by  splitting  wood,  you  can  have  it." 

Joe  looked  at  him,  looked  at  the  wood-pile, 
and  walked  towards  it  without  wasting  words. 
There  was  no  doubt  that  breakfast  was  earned. 
The  farmer,  watching  the  heavy  steady  strokes, 


raised  no  question  upon  that  point,  and  the 
bountiful  meal  was  such  as  Joe  had  seldom 
tasted.  He  enjoyed  it,  too,  until  a  sudden 
thought  made  him  drop  knife  and  fork. 

"  What's  the  matter  now  ?  "  asked  the  round- 
eyed  girl  who  was  attending  to  his  wants  and 
keeping  guard  over  the  silver  spoons. 

"  Nothin',  only  Hitty  an'  the  children  —  an' 
it  kinder  chokes,"  he  answered  slowly. 

The  girl's  eyes  grew  rounder  still,  and  she 
confided  to  the  farmer,  a  little  later,  that  she 
"  guessed  that  man  was  a  little  out." 

"  He's  sense  enough  to  work,  anyhow,"  re- 
sponded that  practical  man,  proceeding  to  sug- 
gest a  plan  that  had  come  into  his  mind. 
"  Look  here,"  he  said  to  Joe,  "  I've  been  intend- 
ing to  have  that  big  shed  torn  down  and  moved 
to  the  other  corner  of  the  lot.  I  want  a  new 
foundation  dug,  too,  and  if  you  choose  to  stay 
and  help  me,  why,  I'll  see  what  you  can  do, 
and  pay  you  what  is  fair.  I  don't  know  how 
long  it  will  take." 


TWO  STKOWG  HANDS.  209 

Joe  assented  eagerly,  though  with  few  words. 
His  heart  grew  lighter  as  soon  as  his  hands 
were  busy,  and  he  plodded  on,  obeying  direc- 
tions faithfully,  bringing  little  judgment  or  skill 
to  the  labor,  but  using  his  great  strength 
lavishly.  Once  more  he  had  something  to 
carry  to  his  little  household,  and  his  old  con- 
tent gradually  returned  as  the  busy  days 
passed.  But  at  the  end  of  two  weeks  the  work 
was  done. 

"I  like  you  first-rate,  and  I'd  keep  you 
longer  if  I  had  anything  more  for  you  to  do, 
but  I  haven't,"  the  farmer  explained.  "You 
see  it's  rather  dull  times,  too,  so  a  man  has  to 
get  along  with  hiring  as  little  help  as  he  can. 
After  two  or  three  months  I  may  need  some- 
body for  a  while  —  if  you  should  be  along 
then." 

"Yes,"  Joe  answered  dully,  doubtfully. 

And  so  the  dreary  wandering  began  again. 
Now  and  then  he  obtained  employment  else- 
where for  a  few  hours,  once  or  twice  for  a  day 


210      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD 

or  two;  but  it  was  only  some  transient  work, 
nothing  that  could  give  steady  occupation. 
These  occasional  earnings,  carried  to  Hitty, 
helped  to  eke  out  the  small  sum  she  so  care- 
fully hoarded,  but  they  were  only  brief  respites 
in  his  tiresome  tramp  and  quest 

Together  they  traversed  the  quiet  country 
roads,  mile  after  mile,  master  and  dog  —  the 
dog  in  dumb  faithfulness,  the  master  in  dumb 
persistence.  Neither  knew  anything  better  to 
do.  "  Good  strong  hands  to  work  with  !  " 
The  words  repeated  themselves  in  the  still- 
ness of  fields  and  lonely  roadsides,  and  grew 
into  a  mockery.  He  clasped  and  unclasped 
the  rough  fingers,  clenched  them,  wrenched 
branches  from  the  trees  overhead.  What  was 
the  use  of  their  strength  ?  They  were  power- 
less to  win  bread  for  Hitty  and  the  children. 

In  the  town  he  dropped  into  a  way  of  linger- 
ing around  the  shops  and  yard,  watching  the 
work  he  could  not  share.  Locomotives, 
coaches  and  great  buildings,  all  representing 


TWO  STRONG  HANDS.  211 

so  much  wealth,  and  yet  no  room  for  him  !  He 
felt  defrauded,  wronged,  as  if  this  great  power 
of  men  and  machinery  were  in  league  against 
him,  crushing  him  out.  He  listened  eagerly 
to  all  the  talk  he  heard  about  the  place,  and  if 
he  comprehended  its  technicalities  no  more 
clearly  than  of  old,  nor  followed  its  reasoning 
and  deductions,  he  had  become  alive  to  com- 
plaints and  murmurs,  and  he  adopted  their 
spirit,  and  intensified  their  bitterness.  Some- 
where there  was  cruelty  and  wrong.  Some- 
body was  to  blame. 

They  must  live  —  old  Daddy,  Hitty  and  the 
children.  He  had  promised  Meg  to  take  care 
of  the  children  ;  that  one  thought  was  clear 
enough  through  all.  There  must  be  a  place 
somewhere,  but  he  had  no  money  with  which 
to  seek  it :  what  they  had  must  be  left  with  Hitty  ; 
and  so,  penniless  and  on  foot,  he  started,  finally, 
for  a  distant  city.  When  he  could  earn  no  food 
by  the  way,  and  when  he  could  do  no  longer 
without  it,  he  begged  it.  Sometimes  it  was 


212      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

given  kindly  or  carelessly,  more  than  once  it 
was  refused,  with  the  information  that  a  strong 
fellow  like  him  ought  to  go  to  work.  It  began 
to  seem  to  his  dull  apprehension  that  this  was 
an  exceedingly  unreasonable  world,  and  that, 
somehow,  it  was  at  enmity  with  him. 

The  city  bewildered  him.  He  had  never 
before  been  where  there  was  such  jostling, 
hurrying  and  crowding  as  in  its  business  tho- 
roughfares. It  was  not  a  great  city  as  maps 
and  statistics  of  population  rated  it,  but  it  was 
immense  in  Joe's  eyes.  It  was  no  place  for  him  ; 
he  realized  that  fact  in  a  few  hours.  "Too 
many  folks  here  a'ready,"  he  muttered  ;  yet  he 
tried  again  and  again  for  work  —  vainly.  He 
began  to  watch  the  faces  and  forms  of  those 
who  passed  him ;  they  all  seemed  to  have 
somewhere  to  go,  something  to  do.  He  looked 
in  at  the  windows  of  beautiful  houses,  as  he 
walked  slowly  by  them  —  rooms  rich  with 
treasure  of  which  Daddy  in  his  wildest  fancies 
never  dreamed.  Why  should  some  have  so 


TWO  STRONG  HANDS.  213 

much,  while  others  had  nothing?  The  question 
did  not  form  itself  distinctly ;  it  but  lay  in  his 
thought  a  sense  of  injustice  and  wrong. 

At  night  he  wandered  back  to  the  only  place 
that  had  held  for  him  any  familiar  look  —  the 
depot.  The  trains  coming  and  going,  the  cars 
standing  here  and  there,  were  like  the  shops 
and  yard  at  home.  Some  of  them  might  have 
come  from  there  —  the  long  iron  road  connect- 
ed the  two  places.  He  picked  his  way  across 
rails  and  around  engines,  until,  at  a  short  dis- 
tance from  the  station,  he  found  on  a  side  track 
an  empty  freight  car,  detached,  alone  and,  for- 
tunately, unlocked.  As  he  examined  it  in  the 
dim  light  that  came  from  distant  lamps,  it 
seemed  to  him  more  like  a  friend  than  anything 
else  he  had  met  in  that  dreary,  jostling  town. 
He  had  helped  to  move  such  cars  often  in  the 
yard,  in  the  good  times  —  already  they  were 
beginning  to  seem  far  away — when  he,  too,  had 
somewhere  to  go,  and  something  to  do,  and 
could  carry  home  his  earnings.  Maybe  this 


214      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

car  had  been  there  then.  He  patted  the  rough 
boards  at  the  thought,  almost  as  if  they  were 
Clingo's  rough  head.  Poor  Clingo  !  how  he 
had  tried  to  come  with  him,  and  howled  and 
lamented  at  being  left  behind  !  It  was  better  to 
leave  him  with  Hitty  and  the  children. 

"  Them  little  fellers  !  Wish  I  could  feel  their 
arms  round  my  neck  !  " 

There  was  a  sudden  choking  in  his  throat, 
as  if  the  little  arms  were  even  then  pressing  too 
closely,  as  he  stretched  himself  upon  his  hard 
bed. 

How  long  he  slept,  utterly  wearied  by  the 
day's  journeying  and  fruitless  search,  he  did 
not  know.  A  lantern  flashing  in  his  face,  a 
rough  grasp  and  a  peremptory  voice,  aroused 
him. 

"  Here,  sir  !     Out  of  that !  " 

A  vigilant  member  ofthe  police,  on  his  round, 
had  discovered  him.  Any  vagrants  sleeping 
in  the  cars  were  a  prey  to  be  pounced  upon  at 
once,  and  he  did  his  duty.  With  scarcely 


TU'O  STRONG  HANDS.  215 

time  to  open  his  heavy  eyes,  Joe  was  dragged 
from  his  refuge,  he  did  not  know  why,  nor  by 
whom.  His  confused,  half-uttered  protest  and 
question  elicited  a  brief  explanation  that  but 
bewildered  him  the  more.  What  had  "  officers  " 
and  "  law  "  to  do  with  him  ?  He  had  hurt  no- 
body —  done  no  harm. 

In  his  ignorance  and  alarm  he  grew  belli- 
gerent, and  thus  drew  upon  his  stupid  head  a 
swift  blow  that  in  no  wise  enlightened  his  fac- 
ulties. Then  he  was  hurried  again  through 
the  dreary  streets,  and  passed  the  remainder 
of  the  night  in  the  city  prison,  with  fearful 
company.  He  did  not  understand  much  of  the 
next  morning's  proceeding,  nor  know  why  the 
bald-headed  gentleman  before  whom  he  was 
brought  should  be,  as  he  phrased  it,  "  so  down 
onto  him." 

Poor  Joe  !  His  appearance  was  against  him. 
His  blundering,  uncommunicative  replies,  and 
the  little  he  told  about  himself,  were  unsatisfac- 
tory ;  the  way  in  which  he  had  been  found, 


2l6      RACHEL" S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

and  his  resistance  of  the  officer,  marked  him  as 
a  suspicious,  if  not  dangerous,  character.  More- 
over, the  city  had  decided  to  give  that  pesti- 
ferous class  —  tramps  —  a  wholesome  horror 
of  their  boundaries ;  so  Joe  received  a  sentence 
of  three  days  on  the  city  works  —  a  mere  salu- 
tary warning,  it  was  considered. 

The  city  improved  its  roads  in  that  way ; 
bands  of  prisoners,  under  guard,  broke  stone 
to  grade  its  streets  and  repair  its  wharves. 
So  there  was  brief  employment  found  for  Joe's 
strong  hands,  but  no  wages  to  carry  home  to 
Hitty.  Three  days  like  a  criminal  on  the 
public  works,  three  nights  in  that  wretched 
prison  den  !  Joe  thought  a  great  deal,  for  him, 
in  that  time.  He  did  not  acquire  any  clearer 
idea  of  the  law,  or  the  reasons  for  such  treat- 
ment ;  his  acquisitions  were  of  another  sort,  and 
rapid  —  bitterness,  blind  hatred  and  defiance. 

Something  was  against  him,  —  somebody  or 
everybody,  —  cruel,  tyrannical,  unjust,  trying 
to  crush  the  life  out  of  him  and  his.  The  antag- 


TWO  STRONG  HANDS.  21 fj 

onistic  power  resolved  itself  into  the  one  of 
which  he  knew  most.  The  railroad  had 
cheated  him  of  his  wages,  little  by  little,  then 
it  had  taken  away  his  work  and  turned  him 
out.  He  could  find  nothing  to  do,  and  was 
abused  because  he  did  nothing.  He  had  no 
money  to  enable  him  to  travel  in  search  of  em- 
ployment, and  was  called  a  tramp,  and  impris- 
oned because  he  travelled  on  foot  and  was  pen- 
niless. He  had  been  dragged  out  of  the  empty 
car,  —  the  one  place  where  he  felt  sure  of  a 
right  to  sleep,  —  and  ill-treated  for  being  found 
in  it.  That,  also,  must  have  been  the  work  of 
the  railroad,  he  thought ;  they  owned  the  cars. 
Why  should  they  have  all  the  wealth,  the  right 
*md  power  of  the  world,  and  crowd  him  out  of 
place  and  bread?  Why  should  this  man, 
standing  guard  over  him,  have  the  power  to 
keep  him  toiling  there  without  wages  —  the 
wages  he  would  have  been  so  glad  to  earn,  at 
this  work  or  any  other,  for  Hitty  and  the 
children?  He  hammered  out  no  answer  from 


2l8      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

the  stones,  but  the  burning  sense  of  wrong 
strengthened  hour  by  hour. 

Once  a  bright  little  boy  came  to  the  officer's 
side  for  a  few  minutes,  was  noticed  and  petted, 
asked  for  and  received  money  to  spend  for  some 
trifle,  and  trotted  merrily  away.  Joe  watched 
with  a  sudden  fierce  gleam  in  the  eyes  under 
the  shaggy  brows. 

"  No  better'n  Meg's  babies  —  no  better'n 
them  !  "  he  muttered.  "  I  promised  I'd  do  my 
level  best  for  'em,  an'  now  it's  this  way  !  " 

When  the  three  days  were  ended  he  scarcely 
needed  the  half-threatening,  half-contemptuous 
injunction  to  "  move  on  "  and  not  allow  himself 
to  be  caught  there  again.  He  felt  no  inclination 
either  to  linger  or  revisit  the  place.  Naturally, 
also,  after  his  experience  there,  he  did  not  deem 
it  safe  to  visit  other  strange  cities  ;  so  he  turned 
his  steps  homeward.  This  time  he  did  not 
walk  quite  all  the  way.  He  watched  the  trains 
carefully,  and  whenever  he  could  steal  a  ride  of 
a  few  miles,  he  did  so.  Apart  from  the  rest  and 


TWO  STRONG  HANDS.  219 

help  on  his  journey,  he  found  a  satisfaction  in 
doing  this.  The  railroad  was  his  enemy,  had 
wronged  him  whenever  and  wherever  it  could, 
and  anything  he  could  take  from  it  was  fair 
reprisal.  Not  that  he  reasoned  the  subject  out 
thus  ;  he  only  felt  it  with  a  feeling  deeper  than 
thought. 

He  was  not  shrewd  or  skilful  enough  to  ac- 
complish his  purpose  often,  or  for  long,  how- 
ever ;  and  when  he  did  ride  unmolested  for  a 
few  miles,  it  was  more  than  once  because  some 
one,  pitying  him,  chose  not  to  see  ;  but  this 
he  did  not  know.  He  reached  again  the  little 
old  town,  and  anxious-faced  Hitty  welcomed 
him  back,  though  he  brought  no  good  tidings. 
The  twins  greeted  him  rapturously,  but,  alas  ! 
needily,  also.  The  little  outstretched  arms 
were  not  more  patient  than  the  wants.  Resum- 
ing his  search  in  the  country,  he  obtained  em- 
ployment for  a  few  days,  and  so,  once  more, 
added  a  little  to  their  nearly  empty  purse  ;  then 
followed  enforced  idleness  again. 


220      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

"'Pears  like,"  said  Hitty,  dropping  her  tired 
hands  one  night  from  the  little  patch  she  was 
vainly  trying  to  fit  into  a  large  hole,  M  as  if 
everything  was  just  like  that  —  as  if  it  had  to, 
and  couldn't." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

A  FAN  AND  A  FACE. 

T~)  ACHEL,  sitting  in  her  carriage  one  day, 
•*•  V«  waiting  for  a  few  minutes  at  the  station 
for  an  incoming  train,  discovered  Joe  lounging 
near. 

"Why,  Joe  !  not  at  work  to-day?"  she  said 
wonderingly.  He  seemed  to  her  like  a  great 
clock  that,  once  started,  would  be  sure  to  run 
on  in  unvarying  monotonous  round.  Any 
deviation  was  unexpected. 

"Hain't  had  none  this  long  time,". he  an- 
swered, something  in  his  voice  and  manner 
striking  her  strangely. 

"  You  have  none  ?     How  did  that  happen  ?  " 

"Dunno.  S'pose  somebody  wanted  my 
bread-money  to  buy  'em  a  few  more  extrys 
with,"  he  answered,  repeating  the  thought 


222      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

that,  in  one  form  or  another,  he  had  heard  so 
often.  His  eyes  fell  on  the  handsome  equipage 
with  a  sullen  look  unlike  the  old  satisfied, 
•worshipful  glance  which  he  had  been  wont  to 
bestow  upon  the  lady  and  all  her  belongings. 
She  had  been  kind  to  him,  but  she  had  every- 
thing. 

Then  the  Judge  came  up,  and  Joe  fell  back, 
not  unwillingly,  and  the  carriage  turned. 

"The  train  is  five  minutes  behind  time.  We 
will  drive  over  to  the  shade  of  that  tree  and 
wait,"  announced  the  Judge. 

"  Oh,  father,  Joe  is  out  of  work  !  "  the  girl  ex- 
claimed in  pained  surprise. 

"The  condition  of  a  good  many  Joes,  my 
dear,"  laughed  the  gentleman.  "  Whom  do 
you  mean  ?  " 

"The  one  who  stood  by  the  carriage — Joe 
Baines." 

"Joe  Baines?"  The  Judge  reflected  a  mo- 
ment. "  Oh,  that  fellow  who  came  to  you  for 
a  place  last  summer?  Yes,  he  was  sent  away 


A  FAN  AND  A  FACE.  223 

some  weeks  ago,  when  they  were  reducing  the 
force  of  workmen." 

"You  knew  of  it,  then?" 

"  Yes  ;  I  remember  now  that  the  yard-master 
mentioned  his  name  to  me  about  that  time, 
because,  I  suppose,  as  I  had  suggested  his 
coming  he  thought  I  might  have  some  special 
wish  for  his  remaining.  Of  course  I  had  no 
preference  for  one  man  above  another  —  knew 
nothing  about  him,  in  fact,  and  had  forgotten 
sending  him  there.  They  said  he  was  willing 
and  faithful  enough,  but  an  awkward  blunder- 
ing fellow,  with  a  good  deal  of  mere  brute 
strength,  and  not  much  wit  in  the  use  of  it ; 
so  he  was  one  of  the  first  to  be  spared." 

Rachel  thought  of  Hitty  and  of  the  twins  in 
their  wondrous  new  apparel  of  which  Joe  had 
been  so  proud.  It  was  strange  that  she  had 
not  heard  before,  but  it  was  well  he  had  not 
come  to-  her ;  she  could  have  done  nothing. 
Only,  now  that  she  knew,  she  would  see 
them. 


224      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

"  Why  was  the  force  reduced  ?  "  she  asked 
after  an  interval  of  silence. 

"  So  many  were  not  needed.  Times  are 
rather  dull." 

"  And  you  could  not  afford  to  keep  them  ?  " 

"  Afford  ?  "  The  Judge  laughed.  "  That  is 
rather  an  odd  way  of  putting  it,  my  dear.  I 
suspect  the  company  could  raise  enough  to  pay 
their  wages  —  and  an  inconsiderable  trifle  be- 
sides —  if  that  is  what  you  mean.  But  really 
the  shops  are  not  carried  on  for  the  sole  benefit 
of  the  men,  but  in  the  interest  of  the  company." 

She  flushed  slightly  under  the  good-humored 
mockery  of  the  tone,  but  ventured  another 
question : 

"The  wages  have  been  reduced  lately,  too?" 

"Yes,  and  salaries  of  men  running  on  the 
line.  Certainly,  the  one  thing  follows  the 
other.  When  there  is  an  over-supply  of  labor 
it  commands  a  lower  price,  and  vice  versa. 
Supply  and  demand  regulate  the  whole  matter, 
Rachel — always  have,  and  always  will.  But, 


A  FAN  AND  A  FACE.  22$ 

my  dear,  you  had  better  leave  the  subject  to 
business  heads.  You  will  find  it  too  knotty  to 
be  easily  understood." 

That  was  a  dismissal  of  the  subject.  It  was 
as  well,  since  nothing  could  be  gained  by  dis- 
cussing it.  The  train  came  panting  in,  a  mo- 
ment later,  and  they  greeted  Nan,  for  whom 
they  had  been  waiting.  She  had  only  come 
out  for  a  day  or  two,  the  immediate  occasion 
being  a  party  at  Craig's  Cross.  Mr.  Corry, 
having  fully  and  leisurely  completed  his  beauti- 
ful house,  opened  it  that  night  for  a  grand 
reception.  The  cars  would  bring  many  guests 
from  the  city  —  a  train,  indeed,  had  been 
placed  at  their  disposal  by  the  treasurer,  who 
liked  to  do  things  magnificently  upon  occasions 
—  and  all  the  arrangements  were  of  a  most 
elaborate  and  expensive  order. 

The  Judge  had  knitted  his  brows  for  a  mo- 
ment when  he  first  heard  what  was  proposed. 

"  Rather  a  pity  to  do  it  just  now.  It  is  well 
to  pay  some  regard  to  popular  feeling,  even 


226 


RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 


though  it  is  prejudiced  and  ignorant,"  he  com- 
mented. "  However,  it  is  Corry's  affair,  not 
mine." 

Something,  it  might  have  been  her  ignorance 
of  supply  and  demand,  caused  Rachel  to  push 
aside,  almost  with  a  shudder,  and  lock  hastily 
out  of  sight  some  costly  jewels  when  she  was 
dressing  that  evening.  Her  cousin  rallied  her 
upon  the  simplicity  of  her  attire. 

"  Have  you  lived  in  this  rural  atmosphere 
until  you  are  really  metamorphosed  into  a  field 
daisy?  Not  but  that  you  look  exceedingly 
pretty,"  she  hastened  to  add  graciously. 

Nan  was  herself  in  full  splendor  of  plumage 
and  spirits.  "  I  may  laugh  at  Craig's  Cross  as 
rural,  Rachel,  but  there  is  certainly  nothing 
that  looks  like  it  in  this,"  she  said,  as  the  car- 
riage bore  them  to  the  entrance,  where  a  line 
of  carriages  was  arriving,  depositing  its  gay 
freight  and  withdrawing. 

"  How  exceedingly  rich  and  tasteful !  "  Nan 
remarked  approvingly  again  as  she  surveyed 


A  FAN  AND  A  FACE.  •    227 

the  handsome  appointments  of  the  dressing- 
room,  where  the  murmur  of  conversation  min- 
gled with  the  soft  rustle  of  silks  and  laces,  as 
gloves  were  buttoned  and  flowers  and  tresses 
received  a  final  touch  of  adjustment.  "The 
house  is  almost  perfect,  Rachel." 

She  said  it  as  though  Rachel,  for  some  rea- 
son, might  be  expected  to  feel  a  peculiar  inter- 
est in  this  house  ;  but  the  girl  did  not  notice  the 
tone,  she  scarcely  heard  the  words,  in  a  sudden 
remembrance  of  other  words  spoken  long  ago. 
She  wondered  if  they  belonged  here  ? 

"Woe  to  him  that  increaseth  that  which  is  not 
his! 

"Woe  to  him  that  coveteth  an  evil  covetous- 
ness  to  his  house,  that  he  may  set  his  nest  on 
high. 

"  For  the  stone  shall  cry  out  of  the  wall,  and 
the  beam  out  of  the  timber  shall  answer  it." 

They  seemed  like  well-conducted  stones  and 
beams  that  night,  however.  If  they  had  any 
voices, — moaning,  protesting,  mournful  voices, 


228      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

—  they  were  drowned  by  the  merry  musical 
ones  of  the  guests,  who  proclaimed  this  a  bril- 
liant affair.  The  spacious  rooms,  with  their 
fair  plenishing,  their  lights,  flowers  and  richly 
dressed  throng,  were  beautiful  as  a  picture, 
and  Rachel  and  her  cousin  found  themselves  in 
a  moment  among  a  group  of  city  acquaintances 
who  exclaimed  and  questioned  over  the  choice 
of  the  former  in  spending  the  preceding  winter 
at  home. 

"Not  that  it  isn't  delightful  here,  of  course, 
— lovely  in  summer,  — but  wasn't  it  rather  dull 
in  winter?  It  usually  is  in  small  towns. 
Besides,  we  missed  you." 

"  Oh,  was  it  last  winter  that  you  had  that  ad- 
venture on  the  ice  ?  How  romantic  ! "  exclaimed 
a  lady  with  a  waving  pink  fan  which  seemed 
to  act  as  a  social  bird  of  prey,  fluttering  in  the 
atmosphere,  pouncing  down  upon  unsuspecting 
conversational  items,  and  bearing  them  to  its 
owner  for  dissection.  "Was  it  just  as  the  pa- 
pers related  it  ?  Do  tell  us  about  it !  " 


A  FAN  AND  A  FACE.  229 

Fortunately  Mrs.  Cony,  large-framed  and 
easy-tempered,  not  over  sensitive  and  a  trifle 
voluble,  interposed  just  there.  Though,  after 
her  first  sentence,  Rachel  was  less  grateful  for 
the  interruption. 

"Oh,  you  must  not  try  to  persuade  Miss 
Lyndal  away  from  home  every  winter.  We 
are  too  glad  to  keep  her  here,  I  assure  you. 
Her  presence  makes  the  place  attractive  for 
certain  other  people  whom  business  does  not 
leave  so  free  to  come  and  go  as  you  young 
ladies  are,"  with  a  meaning  glance  and  smile. 

The  pink  fan  darted  down  upon  the  sugges- 
tion at  once,  and  gave  it  a  little  investigating 
peck. 

"  Oh  !  that  is  it  ?  Now  I  thought  there  must 
be  some  good  reason  —  " 

Then  fresh  arrivals  happily  dissolved  the 
group,  but  later  in  the  evening  the  fluttering 
rosy  feathers  were  again  at  Rachel's  side. 

"What  a  charming  window-nook  this  is  !  Just 
the  place  for  a  cosey  chat ;  and  Mr.  Stephen 


230      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

Corry  evidently  thinks  so,  for  he  is  coming  this 
way." 

If  he  had  thought  so, —  and  it  was  possible, 
since  the  charms  of  music  in  an  adjoining  room 
had  caused  the  little  alcove  to  be  for  the  time 
partially  deserted, —  he  was  not  left  to  choose 
upon  whom  he  would  bestow  his  conversation. 
The  bird  of  prey  seized  upon  his  first  remark. 

"You  have  been  visible  at  intervals,  but  you 
have  flitted  here  and  there,  like  a  fair  ghost, 
just  out  of  reach,  all  the  evening,"  he  said  to 
Rachel. 

"Which  has  been  half  an  hour  long  as  yet," 
she  laughed. 

"Oh,  there  is  no  question  that  it  has  seemed 
longer  than  that  to  him  ! "  interposed  the  fan 
broadly.  "  Speaking  of  ghosts,  Mr.  Corry, 
what  do  you  think  of  these  new  spirit  manifes- 
tations—  materializations,  I  mean.  Do  you 
know,  I  attended  one  of  the  seances  lately? 
And  really  it  was  the  strangest  thing  !  " 

Nan,  talking  with  a  gentleman  near  them, 


A  FAN  AND  A  FACE.  231 

suddenly  started  with  half-suppressed  ejacula- 
tion. 

"  What  is  it?  "  inquired  her  vis-a-vis  and  Mr. 
Corry  in  the  same  breath,  noticing  the  move- 
ment and  her  glance  of  alarm. 

"  Nothing  —  a  face,"  she  laughed  uneasily  to 
cover  her  momentary  loss  of  self-possession. 
"It  is  gone  now  —  a  man's  face,  rough  and 
wild,  looking  in  at  that  open  window.  One  of 
the  coachmen,  perhaps,  anxious  for  a  closer 
view  of  the  pleasures  in-doors,  but  it  was  so 
near  that  it  startled  me." 

"Talk  of  angels  and  see  their  wings,"  para- 
phrased pink-feathers  briskly.  "  Perhaps  my 
mentioning  the  spirits  has  brought  us  a  mani- 
festation." 

"  Are  you  a  medium  ? "  inquired  a  languid 
gentleman. 

"  Not  consciously.  I'm  sure  I  should  never 
choose  such  a  gift,  or  profession,  whichever  it 
is."  The  talons  had  clutched  another  topic 
with  the  last  sentence,  and  dragged  it  forward 


232      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

triumphantly.  "What  do  you  think  of  women 
in  the  professions  ?  " 

"  Oh,  they  grace  them,  undoubtedly,"  mistily 
but  politely. 

"  Flattery  !  But  really  I  do  not  see  the  need 
for  so  much  talk  about  'rights,'  'public  opinion,' 
and  all  that.  If  there  is  any  work  a  woman 
wants  to  do,  and  can  do,  why  doesn't  she  stop 
talking  about  objections,  and  insisting  that 
everybody  shall  be  willing,  and  just  prove  her 
right  by  doing  it?  " 

It  appeared  probable  that  the  dashing  bird 
would  successfully  pounce  upon,  bring  to 
earth  and  safely  dispose  of  all  problems,  social, 
political  and  religious,  before  supper.  Mr. 
Corry,  who  had  gone  to  order  an  investigation 
of  the  appearance  at  the  window,  returned  to 
Rachel. 

"Would  you  like  to  go  to  the  library?  I 
have  a  portfolio  of  Swiss  and  German  views, 
some  of  them  very  fine,  which  I  should  like  to 
show  you." 


A  FAN  AND  A  FACE.  233 

"Annice's  judgment  will  be  more  valuable 
than  mine."  Rachel  turned  quickly  to  her 
cousin.  "  But  we  shall  both  enjoy  them,  shall 
we  not,  Nan  ?  " 

"I  shall,  certainly,  but  not  just  now  —  Mr. 
Corry  will  excuse  me,  I  am  sure.  If  Mr. 
Sheldon  will  take  me  to  his  sister,  I  must  beg 
to  be  allowed  a  little  chat  with  her.  I  have 
not  seen  her  since  her  return,  you  know." 

Her  glance  and  smile  said  plainly  that  she 
considered  herself  as  conferring,  gracefully,  a 
favor  by  her  refusal  to  be  included  in  the  invi- 
tation. Rachel  felt  the  meshes  of  the  net  that 
was  so  persistently  weaving  around  her.  Why 
should  every  one  seem  so  sure  of  that  which 
had  never  been  defined  even  in  her  own 
thought  until  it  became  so  as  an  impossibility  ? 
She  would  gladly  have  declined  to  be  present 
that  evening  if  she  could  have  done  so,  still 
more  gladly  would  she  have  refused  the  Ute-a- 
tete  that  she  felt  was  desired.  Her  efforts  to 
avoid  it  had  been  vain,  however ;  perhaps  they 


234      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

had  been  cowardly  also.  She  arose  —  there 
seemed  nothing  else  to  do  —  and  with  hand 
just  touching  his  arm  walked  slowly  through 
the  crowded  rooms  to  the  library  beyond.  It 
was  not  large,  but  lofty,  and  well  lined  with 
books  and  pictures.  Folding-doors  connected 
it  with  the  other  apartments,  and  it  was  in  full 
view  of  the  many  promenaders.  Still,  fewer 
people  were  there,  and  sitting  by  one  of  the 
tables  and  slowly  scanning  the  views  —  which 
Mr.  Corry  was  inclined  to  treat  very  uncere- 
moniously when  they  were  fairly  before  him 
—  there  was  opportunity  for  little  snatches  of 
quiet  talk.  He  congratulated  himself  upon 
this  fact  after  a  few  minutes. 

"For  it  is  a  pleasure  very  rarely  accorded 
me  of  late.  I  scarcely  ever  see  you  except  in 
a  crowd,"  he  added  discontentedly.  "I  saw 
more  of  you  when  you  were  in  the  city." 

"Yes  —  you  were  at  leisure,  and  you  were 
often  at  my  uncle's.  —  This  is  Wartburg  Castle, 
is  it  not  ?  " 


A  FAN  AND  A  FACE.  235 

"I  believe  so.  Fine,  isn't  it?"  carelessly; 
then  plunging  into  the  other  topic  again. 

"But  it  is  not  just  that,  Miss  Rachel. 
There  is  a  difference  beyond  mere  happen- 
ing or  circumstance  —  some  change  in  your- 
self." 

He  had  expected  his  assertion  would  be 
either  questioned  or  explained  away,  but  after 
a  moment  she  answered  simply,  — 

"  Yes,  it  is  true,  there  is.  I  have  learned 
more  of  myself  and  of  my  life." 

"But  should  that  cause  a  change  towards 
your  friends?  towards  me?  "  he  asked  reproach- 
fully. "We  were  friends,  or  I  thought  we  were, 
and  something  has  come  between  us.  I  can- 
not understand  what  or  why,  but  I  feel  It  sen- 
sibly and  painfully." 

"  No,  there  is  nothing.  I  think  there  is  no 
difference  that  has  not  always  existed,"  she 
said  slowly  and  honestly,  "only  nothing 
brought  it  so  clearly  into  view  as  now.  I  am 
older.  Life  has  deeper  meanings  for  me.  I 


236      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

cannot  take  its  mere  sparkle  and  foam  and  be 
content  any  longer  —  that  is  all." 

"  And  you  class  me  with  the  froth  and  foam  ?" 
"No,  not  that,  certainly."  She  flushed.  It 
was  hard  to  speak  the  simple  truth  and -yet  say 
no  more  than  it  was  absolutely  needful  should 
be  said.  "  I  mean  that  it  was  in  quest  of  such 
things  —  in  our  pleasure-seeking  that  we  met 
so  often.  We  were  more  frequent  companions 
then,  but  we  are  as  much  —  as  nearly  —  friends 
now  as  we  ever  were." 

"  That  is  saying  very  little  for  any  bond  be- 
tween us  then,"  he  declared  impetuously. 
"Miss  Lyndal  —  Rachel,  I  cannot  be  satisfied 
to  discuss  this  subject  in  such  a  metaphysical 
roundabout  way.  It  is  not  simply  an  interest- 
ing problem  to  me  :  it  is  far  more.  You  must 
have  seen  my  wish,  my  hope,  in  all  these 
months,  that  your  friendship  might  grow  to 
something  deeper  and  stronger  —  to  at  least 
some  faint  return  of  the  feeling  I  have  cher- 
ished for  you." 


A  FAN  AND  A  FACE.  237 

She  lifted  her  earnest  eyes  steadily  to  his 
face  for  a  moment. 

"You  mistake,  Mr.  Corry,  I  am  sure  you 
do,"  she  answered  gravely,  kindly,  but  with 
the  deliberateness  of  full  conviction.  "You 
are  mistaking  both  yourself  and  me.  It  is  not 
really  myself  that  you  care  for,  but  only  some 
fancy  that  you  have  called  by  my  name.  We 
are  too  far  apart  in  all  our  thoughts  and  plans. 
We  view  everything  from  a  different  stand- 
point. You  would  see  it  soon  as  clearly  as  I 
do  now." 

"Perhaps.  I  certainly  have  not  viewed  this 
matter  in  the  light  that  you  do  —  if  that  is  a 
proof  of  my  moral  obtuseness,"  he  said  bitterly. 
Then  his  pride  asserted  itself,  and  he  added 
coldly,  "  Pardon  me  ;  I  have  no  right,  no  desire, 
to  press  a  plea  that  is  utterly  distasteful  to  you." 

"I  am  sorry — "she  began.  But  she  could 
not  soften  what  she  had  said  with  any  sincere 
assurance  of  friendship  or  esteem,  and  the  bro- 
ken little  sentence  had  to  stand  alone. 


238      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

Through  all  the  talk  the  sketches  had  been 
taken  up  one  by  one,  held  before  unseeing 
eyes,  and  mechanically  laid  aside,  until  half  of 
Germany  had  been  traversed.  But  now  a  con- 
strained silence  fell  that  soon  grew  intolerable. 
Rachel  closed  the  portfolio  at  last. 

"  Shall  we  return  to  the  drawing-room  ?  "  she 
suggested. 

"If  you  wish  ;"  and  presently  they  were  part 
of  the  general  stream  of  conversation  and 
laughter  again,  with  the  music  floating  in  rip- 
ples and  sparkles  on  the  current. 

Rachel  stole  a  glance  at  her  companion's 
face.  It  was  grave,  cold  and  —  dissatisfied. 
An  odd  little  smile  crossed  her  lips  as  she  men- 
tally added  that  last  word.  It  suddenly  re- 
minded her  of  the  Frenchman  who  expressed 
his  sorrow  at  the  death  of  his  wife  by  stating 
that  he  was  "  ver  mooch  dissatisfied."  "  That  is 
really  all  in  this  case,"  she  thought  with  a  sigh 
of  relief.  "  He  is  disappointed  in  his  plans,  his 
pride  is  hurt,  but  there  is  no  real  heart-wound." 


A  FAN  AND  A  FACE.  239 

The  rosy  bird  of  prey  swooped  down  upon 
them  before  they  had  time  to  separate. 

"Have  you  been  looking  at  pictures  in  the 
library?  I  hear  you  have  some  very  fine  ones 
there,  Mr.  Corry.  Do  you  know,  I  am  quite 
charmed  with  this  place?  If  I  really  did  be- 
lieve in  women  going  into  professions  and 
business,  and  all  that,  I  should  adopt  railroad- 
ing as  my  calling  at  once." 

"  Not  along  the  line,  I  trust.  It  is  hard  work, 
—  at  least  it  looks  so,  —  and  the  cabins,  though 
they  have  the  merit  of  simplicity,  are  not  al- 
ways constructed  upon  strictly  aesthetic  princi- 
ples." 

Mr.  Corry  might  have  thought  of  a  dozen 
pleasanter  replies  if  he  had  been  in  an  amiable 
mood,  but  he  was  not.  The  fan  fluttered  vig- 
orously, and  the  laugh  that  sounded  above  it 
had  a  sudden  metallic  click  in  it,  as  if  it  cover- 
ed the  aiming  of  a  pistol. 

"Oh,  you  think  we  ladies  are  so  stupid  that 
we  should  be  content  with  the  drudgery?  No, 


240      RACHEL'S  S  PI  ARE  OF  THE  ROAD, 

indeed,  Mr.  Corry,  I  know  very  well  that  all 
the  profits  are  higher  up,  among  the  officers. 
I'd  be  one  of  those  !  There  are  handsome  pro- 
fits in  reducing  wages,  and  not  freight  or  trav- 
elling rates,  —  and  in  a  host  of  nice  shrewd 
ways  that  have  no  drudgery  about  them.  By 
the  way,  I  heard,  the  other  day,  that  you  and 
some  others  —  two  or  three  prominent  members 
of  your  company  —  had  bought  a  large  tract  of 
land  out  at  Henderson.  The  'bog  farm,'  we 
used  to  call  it :  it  is  so  marshy." 

"  My  father  and  —  some  others  own  property 
there,  I  believe.  Are  you  interested  in  trans- 
fers of  real  estate  ?  " 

"I  certainly  shouldn't  be  in  that  piece,  —  it's 
so  drearily  flat  and  malarious, — unless  I  did 
belong  to  a  railway  company,  you  know.  That 
might  alter  the  case,  for  I  hear  it  sold  very  low, 
—  it  surely  ought,  —  and  that  it  will  be  made 
very  profitable  by  moving  some  of  the  railroad 
shops  out  there,  and  building  a  lot  of  cheap 
houses,  which  the  workmen  will  either  have  to 


A  FAN  AND  A  FACE.  241 

buy  or  rent  at  the  price  set  upon  them.  Are 
the  shops  to  be  moved  out  there,  Mr.  Corry  ?  " 

"  There  has  been  talk  of  removing  some  of 
the  shops,  and  that  is  a  favorable  point  on  the 
line  for  their  location,  that  is  all,"  admitted  Mr. 
Corry  stiffly.  "As  for  the  workmen  being 
obliged  to  go  there,  that  is  mere  talk,  of  course." 

"  But  there  will  have  to  be  workmen  in  the 
shops,  will  there  not?  and  whoever  does  work 
there  will  have  to  live  there,  won't  they  ?  "  per- 
sisted pink-fan  sweetly. 

"They  will  do  so,  I  presume;  they  will 
choose  to  do  so." 

"  From  necessity  —  yes,  I  see.  Well,  I  hope 
their  share  of  the  profits  will  be  sufficient  to 
keep  them  in  quinine,  for  it  is  a  dreadful 
aguish  place,  Mr.  Corry." 

Another  whirl  of  the  gay  kaleidoscope  threw 
different  pieces  together,  and  gave  Mr.  Corry 
an  opportunity  to  escape. 

"Now,  do  you  know,"  said  pink-feathers 
turning  to  Rachel  for  a  parting  remark  before 


242      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

she  whisked  away  with  a  blond  moustache,  "he 
looked  half  vexed,  but  I  believe,  after  all, 
gentlemen  like  a  lady's  conversation  to  be  like 
wine  —  with  a  little  tang  to  it." 

Rachel  answered  only  with  an  amused  smile, 
yet  under  the  amusement  was  a  throb  of  the 
old  pain.  Through  all  the  glint  and  bright- 
ness ran  the  sombre  thread  of  wrong  and  suf- 
fering. A  solemn  undertone  thrilled  for  her 
through  all  the  music.  And  then,  with  a  sud- 
den glance  towards  the  window,  she  saw  and 
recognized  what  Nan  had  seen  earlier  in  the 
evening,  —  a  haggard  face  looking  in,  —  a  face 
like  that  of  Joe  Baines. 


CHAPTER  XII. 
A  WOMAN'S  IMPULSE. 

'"T^HE  air  about  Craig's  Cross  was  heavy 
•••  with  rumors,  and  the  hush  of  the  mid- 
summer day  seemed  but  the  stillness  of  expec- 
tancy. Wild  stories  had  flitted  over  the  tele- 
graph wires,  and  were  retold  in  printed  sheets, 
of  uprisings,  riots,  madness  and  violence. 
Like  some  fierce  conflagration,  the  trouble 
spread  from  point  to  point  —  for  suffering,  in- 
justice, ignorance  and  bitter  discontent  had 
been  slowly  preparing  the  way,  and  it  needed 
but  a  breath  to  fan  the  hidden  fires  to  a  flame. 

The  sympathies  of  the  old  town  by  the  river 
were  divided.  Many  condemning  lawlessness 
and  violence,  yet  openly  sided  with  the  strikers 
in  their  demands,  while  others  reiterated  busi- 
ness-like statements  of  the  regulating  power  of 

243 


244      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

supply  and  demand.  Corporations  and  indi- 
viduals had  a  right  to  obtain  labor  at  the  lowest 
rates  possible,  and  if  the  men  were  dissatisfied, 
they  could  seek  better  places  elsewhere.  But 
all  the  talk  of  outsiders  availed  little ;  it  settled 
nothing. 

"There  will  be  no  trouble  here,"  asserted  the 
railway  officers  with  a  somewhat  nervous  show 
of  confidence.  "No  danger,"  repeated  the 
authorities  of  the  town.  Yet  many  anxious 
glances  were  cast  towards  the  great  shops, 
deserted  by  their  workmen,  and,  for  the  most 
part,  closed  and  silent,  while,  gathered  in 
groups  in  the  yard,  along  the  line  or  at 
street  corners,  men  talked  in  lowered  tones,  but 
with  excited  faces  and  eager  gestures.  There 
had  been  no  outbreak,  but  the  intense  feeling 
was  evident  and  ominous. 

A  train  bearing  several  companies  of  infan- 
try passed  over  the  road,  running  very  slowly 
through  the  town,  and  pausing  for  a  few  min- 
utes at  the  station,  so  that  a  full  display  of  the 


A   WOMAN'S  IMPULSE.  245 

military  force  on  board  was  effected.  What- 
ever was  the  intention  of  the  exhibition,  the 
result  was  not  desirable.  It  was  regarded  as 
a  menace  on  one  side,  and  called  forth  sneer- 
ing and  wrathful  words  from  the  other.  Were 
the  company  trying  to  intimidate  them  ?  They 
intended  to  hold  their  protest  against  the  last 
reduction  of  wages,  and  were  not  to  be  fright- 
ened so  easily.  They  had  made  no  threats, 
and  if  the  railroad  intended  that  for  one,  it 
would  better  have  been  omitted.  A  resort  to 
force  would  not  be  one-sided. 

"There  are  ways  enough,  if  they  have  no 
more  sense  than  to  start  that  sort  of  thing. 
Trains  can  be  wrecked  and  shops  burned  here 
as  well  as  at  other  places.  They'd  find  it 
wouldn't  pay." 

Mere  words,  wild  words,  bandied  here  and 
there  in  the  hour's  fierce  excitement.  Those 
who  uttered  them  did  not  for  a  moment  con- 
template the  deeds  of  which  they  spoke.  But 
there  was  one  lingering  now  on  the  outskirts 


246      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

of  this  group,  now  of  that,  and  listening  to 
everything  said,  to  whom  all  this  was  more 
than  talk.  Joe  said  nothing,  and  the  others 
paid  little  more  heed  to  him  than  to  the  great 
dog  at  his  side.  Both  were  to  them  stupid, 
good-natured  and  inoffensive  :  that  was  all. 

There  was  something  different  from  that, 
however,  looking  out  of  Joe's  eyes  of  late  — 
the  look  of  a  hunted  creature  turning  at  bay. 
The  days  had  grown  only  harder  in  the  poor 
little  home.  All  his  efforts  could  not  save  its 
inmates  from  absolute  want.  He  seldom  ob- 
tained employment,  and  had  found,  at  best, 
but  transient  bits  of  work  that  had  barely  suf- 
ficed to  keep  them  in  food ;  and  he  could  see 
no  hope  or  promise  for  the  future.  Dark 
thoughts  thronged  his  dull  brain  in  his  desper- 
ation, and  he  grew  more  and  more  at  enmity 
with  the  great,  prosperous,  hard  world  that 
seemed  so  mercilessly  crowding  and  crushing 
him  —  with  the  proud,  careless  ones,  who  were 
flinging  away  what  would  be  life  to  him  and  his. 


A    WOMAN'S  IMPULSE.  247 

There  was  cruel  wrong  and  injustice  some- 
where, and  it  became  for  him  embodied  in  the 
power,  wealth  and  activity  of  the  great  railroad, 
as,  day  after  day,  drawn  by  habit,  he  wandered 
around  the  place  where  he  had  been  so  glad  to 
work.  The  great  shops,  the  far-reaching 
lines,  the  rushing  trains  with  their  throngs  of 
passengers,  and  the  well-dressed  officers,  hold- 
ing place  and  authority,  represented  to  him  all 
might  and  treasure.  Yet  all  chance  had  been 
taken  away  from  him  to  add  a  little  more  to 
this  wealth  already  boundless.  Hitty  and  the 
children  must  starve  for  that !  They  had  told 
him  here  to  find  work  elsewhere,  when  their 
power  was  everywhere  to  prevent  his  doing  it. 
They  were  the  cause  of  all  his  weary  wander- 
ing, suffering  and  destitution.  They  had 
everything,  while  he  was  imprisoned  for  sleep- 
ing an  hour  in  one  of  their  cars. 

The  utterances  ot  dissatisfaction  and  sharp 
criticism  among  the  men,  he  had  gathered  and 
interpreted  literally ;  so,  also,  he  placed  his 


248      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

own  construction  upon  what  he  heard  now. 
There  was  such  a  thing  as  fighting  the  giant. 
Others,  wronged  too  far,  were  taking  ven- 
geance, and  working  ruin  and  loss  in  return. 
He  listened  with  a  fierce  exultation  born  of  his 
desperation  and  pain.  Ah !  that  was  a  thing 
to  do  !  Let  them  learn  what  suffering,  loss 
and  ruin  were,  too.  His  strong  hands  could 
help  that  work  if  they  could  find  no  other,  and 
he  pondered  the  new  thought. 

To  Rachel  those  days  were  wellnigh  intol- 
erable. The  storm,  long  gathering,  seemed 
bursting  now,  and  the  comparative  quiet  of  the 
little  town  was,  to  her  apprehensive  thought, 
but  the  hush  before  a  thunder  peal.  If  there 
had  been  only  danger  and  no  guilt,  if  she 
could  have  stifled  the  torturing  fear  that  the 
luxury  of  her  life  was  built  upon  a  wrong,  that 
a  woeful  weight  of  responsibility  for  these 
things  might  rest  upon  one  very  near  to  her, 
the  rest,  whatever  came,  could  have  been 
calmly  borne.  But  the  old  burden  pressed 


A    WOMAN'S  IMPULSE.  249 

more  heavily  now,  and  the  tangled  questions 
would  not  separate  into  threads  of  right  and 
wrong,  so  that  she  could  clearly  understand. 

A  feverish  unrest  was  upon  her,  she  could 
compose  herself  to  no  ordinary  occupations. 
She  shunned  her  grandmother's  room,  where 
the  old  lady  gravely  hoped  the  law  would  lay 
its  hands,  not  only  upon  the  rioters,  but  upon 
all  malcontents  as  well.  She  shrank  equally 
from  hearing  the  talk  among  the  lower  mem- 
bers of  the  household,  where  all  wild  and  ex- 
aggerated rumors  were  gathered  and  repeated. 
She  wandered  restlessly  through  the  house, 
until  the  stillness  of  the  rooms  grew  insupport- 
able, the  atmosphere  heavy  with  doubt  and 
pain,  and  she  sought  relief  in  escaping  from  it 
for  a  time. 

She  would  visit  Hitty,  she  decided,  as  she 
passed  through  the  quaint  old  garden,  bright 
again  with  all  its  summer  glory.  It  was  no 
short  ramble  she  wanted,  but  a  long  brisk 
walk,  with  some  definite  object  in  view.  Pos- 


250      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

sibly  she  could  aid  Hitty  in  some  way,  —  she 
did  not  dream  how  sorely  they  needed  aid,  — 
and  the  walk  down  the  hillside,  along  a 
sloping  bank  above  the  railway,  and  through  a 
strip  of  wood  to  the  meadow,  suited  her.  There 
was  sweetness,  rest  and  a  freer  air  under  the 
overhanging  branches  of  the  great  trees.  Na- 
ture, going  steadily  on  with  her  varied  and 
beautiful  work,  smiling  in  her  perfect  peace, 
repeated  some  remembered  words  :  "After  all, 
however  things  seem  to  go,  the  King  never 
dies,  and  'His  kingdom  ruleth  over  all.'" 
And  the  troubled  heart,  hearing,  grew  calmer. 
Kitty's  grave  face  lightened  a  little  at  the 
sight  of  her  visitor.  Such  a  thin  worn  young 
face  it  had  grown  !  its  look  of  serious  satisfac- 
tion and  matronly  content  quite  banished  by 
the  anxious  lines  between  the  eyes,  and  the  sad 
drawing  of  the  mouth.  Rachel  noticed  it  even 
before  she  had  accepted  the  chair  of  state,  —  the 
one  velvet-covered  seat  of  the  old  car,  to  which 
Hitty  invited  her,  —  and  wondered  at  so  great  a 


A    WOMAN'S  IMPULSE.  251 

change.  It  was  difficult  to  obtain  any  definite 
knowledge  of  their  affairs  from  the  child,  for, 
never  voluble,  the  brave  little  housewife  con- 
fined her  few  remarks  to  the  weather  and  the 
twins,  and  said  not  a  word  of  wants.  It  would 
have  required  a  spirit  of  coarser  fibre  than  Miss 
Lyndal's  to  have  disregarded  that  quiet  un- 
childlike  dignity  by  any  direct  questioning. 
She  only  wondered  and  surmised,  until  she 
chanced  to  inquire  for  Joe. 

"  He  don't  be  at  home,  ma'am,  not  since 
mornin'." 

"Is  he  at  work,  then?"  asked  Rachel  in 
pleased  surprise.  Something  might  have  hap- 
pened. Perhaps  her  father  had  done  something 
for  him  after  all. 

"Oh,  no,  ma'am  !  there  don't  hardly  ever  be 
no  work  for  him  now,"  answered  Hitty  as  if 
astonished  at  such  ignorance.  "  'Cause  Joe's 
looked  most  everywheres.  Don't  they  be  hard 
times,  ma'am?"  she  asked  as  if  in  sudden  relief 
at  finding  some  one  to  whom  she  could  speak 


252      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

of  this  topic.  "  I  don't  know  how  they'll  come 
now.  Joe  says  it's  a  sin  and  robbery  to  poor 
folks,  and  don't  ought  to  be.  And  everybody 
do  be  sayin'  it,  that  them  as  has  been  at  it  ought 
to  lose  things,  too,  and  have  'em  burned  up  and 
took  away.  I  can't  just  see  the  rights  of  it 
all."  She  knitted  her  brows.  "Joe  do  be  that 
down  and  mad-like,  but  he  says  that's  how  it'll 
be  for  evenness." 

She  uttered  it  all  simply,  not  seeming  to  com- 
prehend the  full  import  of  what  she  was  saying, 
or  that  it  could  have  any  special  relation  to  or 
interest  for  her  visitor.  But  Rachel  shuddered, 
and  interposed  hurriedly : 

"  That  is  all  wrong ;  it  will  help  nothing  — 
tell  Joe  so.  And  Hitty,  do  not  repeat  this  to 
any  one  else — what  you  have  just  said  to  me." 

The  grave  eyes  were  lifted  in  wonder  at  her 
earnestness,  but  Hitty  only  answered  quietly : 

"No,  ma'am,  not  if  you  think  it  do  be  best 
not." 

"People  might  misunderstand,"  Rachel  ex- 


A   WOMAN'S  IMPULSE.  253 

plained  briefly.  Then  she  abruptly  changed 
the  subject,  and  turned  to  the  children,  poor 
little  Nip  and  Tuck,  who,  in  garments  woefully 
patched  and  many-colored,  moving  monuments 
of  Kitty's  skill,  were  playing  near  her.  She 
could  devise,  while  she  talked  with  them,  no 
better  plan  of  aiding  the  little  household,  and 
so,  presently,  placed  money  in  each  small 
palm. 

"A  birthday  gift,"  she  hastily  explained  to 
Hitty,  who  had  informed  her  that  they  would 
"  be  goin'  on  four  next  month." 

"  I  may  not  know  or  remember  the  exact  day 
if  I  wait,  and  you  will  know  what  to  buy  for 
them  better  than  I.  Spend  it  as  you  think 
best." 

It  is  doubtful  if  Hitty  had  ever  before  known 
even  a  mention  of  birthday  gifts ;  but  she  ac- 
cepted it  simply,  as  she  did  everything. 

"Yes,  ma'am,  we're  'bliged  to  you,"  with  a 
queer  little  bob  of  a  courtesy  as  the  young 
lady  arose. 


254      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

The  call,  short  as  it  was,  furnished  food  for 
thought  so  deep  that  Rachel  was  walking 
homeward  with  unseeing  eyes  for  all  around 
her,  until,  the  wood  quite  passed,  some  one 
scrambling  up  the  bank  from  the  railway  sud- 
denly stood  in  her  path. 

"Sakes  alive!  You  here,  child?"  ejacu- 
lated Mrs.  Shackles,  as,  with  bonnet  awry  and 
face  flushed  and  excited,  she  confronted  the 
girl ;  "I  was  lookin'  for  somebody  'mazin'  quick. 
There's  rails  tore  up  right  down  here,  an' 
some  trains  do  run  yet,  if  things  is  all  at  sixes 
an'  sevens.  Sakes  !  why,  the  first  one  that 
comes'll  be  pitched  nobody  knows  where  — 
into  the  river,  most  like  !  " 

"  Rails  displaced  !  where  ?  "  questioned  Ra- 
chel, rapidly  separating  the  one  grain  of  in- 
formation from  the  mass  of  comment. 

"  Where  I  come  from,  right  down  the  bank 
here." 

She  led  the  way,  and  Rachel  followed  to 
where,  along  its  shelf  on  the  hillside,  —  a  slop- 


A   WOMAN'S  IMPULSE.  255 

ing  bank  above  it,  but  steep  descent  below,  — 
ran  the  narrow  iron  road.  There  was  a  fear- 
ful gap  in  it  now,  the  rails  torn  up  by  some 
determined  han'd  that  had  evidently  intended 
the  work  of  destruction  to  be  thorough.  The 
girl's  face  paled  as  she  looked. 

"  We  must  get  word  to  the  station."  She 
paused  for  an  instant.  Some  one  must  keep 
guard  there,  meanwhile,  lest  a  train  should 
come  from  the  opposite  direction.  Their  reg- 
ular running  had  been  rendered  impossible  by 
the  trouble  at  various  points,  but  there  was 
still  communication  between  Craig's  Cross  and 
the  city,  and  she  could  not  tell  when  a  train 
might  appear.  She  dared  not  leave  Mrs. 
Shackles  in  charge,  lest,  in  case  warning  were 
needed,  she  might  fail  to  give  one  that  would 
be  understood.  "You  must  go,  I  think,  and  I 
will  watch  here.  Be  sure  you  make  them 
know,  and  send  some  one  quickly.  Oh,  I 
wish  there  were  some  one  else  to  go  !  " 

For  the  old  woman's  step,  though  steady, 


256      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

had  lost  the  fleetness  of  youth,  and  she  was 
weary,  too,  with  miles  of  rambling  among  the 
berry-bushes.  As  if  in  answer  to  the  wish,  a 
boy  appeared  upon  the  river  bank,  and  Rachel's 
clear  call  summoned  him.  He  comprehended 
at  once,  gave  one  startled  glance  at  the  riven 
track,  nodded  intelligently  to  her  brief  direc- 
tion, and,  with  an  emphatic  "Yes,  sir!"  sped 
away  towards  the  town.  Rachel  watched  him 
out  of  sight,  then  turned  her  anxious  gaze  to  a 
curve  in  the  road  — the  first  point  at  which 
an  incoming  train  could  be  seen.  A  light 
zephyr-like  shawl  hung  over  her  arm,  a  fleecy 
thing  of  scarlet  and  white.  It  must  serve  as  a- 
signal  in  case  of  danger,  and  her  fingers  rested 
upon  it  nervously.  Mrs.  Shackles  had  drawn 
a  long  breath  of  relief  at  the  securing  of 
another  messenger,  and  seated  herself  upon 
the  bank  to  rest  and  wait  the  outcome  of  the 
affair. 

"  Dear  !  how  things  do  happen  !     How'd  it  'a' 
been  now,  if  I  hadn't  come  'long  this  way  with 


A    WOMAN'S  IMPULSE.  257 

my  berries  ?  Now  if  Humphrey'd  'a'  been  here, 
he  might  'a'  been  some  use  for  once.  I  says  to 
him  he'd  better  come,  seein'  as  I  get  so  tired, 
an'  fetch  the  berries.  But  he  says, '  No,  I'll  stick 
up  to  my  name,' — cause  he's  heard  somewheres 
that  Humphrey  means  purtector  of  home,  an' 
it's  made  him  more  shif'less'n  ever.  An'  I  says 
to  him,  'You  purtects  home  the  same  way  a 
scarecrow  does  acorn-field,  Humphrey  Shack- 
les, —  doin'  nothin'  but  hangin'  round  an'  look- 
in'  ragged.'  An'  so  he  does,  too  !  Don't  s'pose 
the  company'll  give  any  rickompense  for  savin' 
that  smash-up  ;  an'  if  they  do,  that  boy'll  get  it, 
an'  me  a-seein'  it  first,  too,  an'  a-needin'  things 
so  bad.  But  I  don't  s'pose  nobody '11  think  to 
tell  'em?"  and  she  cast  a  sidelong  questioning 
glance  at  Rachel. 

But  the  girl  did  not  hear  her.  She  still 
stood  by  the  road,  and  her  glance  had  fallen 
upon  something  lying  on  the  ground  near  her, 
beside  the  broken  track  —  a  rough,  cheap 
pocket-knife.  Quietly  she  placed  her  foot 


258    RACHEL: s  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

upon  it,  covering  it  from  sight,  waited  until 
Mrs.  Shackles'  observation  was  withdrawn, 
then  picked  it  up  and  threw  it  over  the  bank, 
as  far  down  among  the  tangled  weeds  and 
bushes  as  she  could  send  it.  She  did  not 
ask  herself  why  she  did  it  —  she  but  obeyed  an 
impulse. 

The  old  woman,  fanning  herself  with  a  huge 
leaf  she  had  plucked,  was  again  engrossed  by 
her  own  eloquence. 

"  Dear  sakes  !  what  times  !  Everybody  ag'in 
everybody,  an'  all  the  world  crooked.  Soldiers 
a-shootin'  an'  rioters  a-burnin'  an'  tearin',  that's 
what  it's  come  to  !  I've  been  a-sayin'  things 
would  happen,  but  nobody  would  bTeve  it. 
Thought  folks  could  stand  everything.  They 
says,  '  Half  a  loaf  is  better'n  no  bread.'  Course 
it  is  !  Any  fool  knows  that.  But  it's  the  earnin' 
a  whole  loaf  an'  then  seein'  somebody  else 
slash  off  the  biggest  end  of  it  afore  ye  git  it  — 
that's  what  grinds  ! " 

Rachel  did  not  know  how  long  she  talked. 


A   WOMAN'S  IMPULSE.  259 

The  voice  seeme'd  to  run  on  monotonously  for 
an  interminable  time,  while  she  stood  there 
watching  for  sound  or  curl  of  smoke  around 
the  curve.  At  last,  in  the  direction  of  the  sta- 
tion, a  black  moving  body  appeared,  resolving 
itself  gradually  into  a  party  of  men,  guided  by 
the  boy  whom  she  had  sent.  There  was  no 
lack  of  willing  hands  to  aid  in  repairing  the 
damage,  nor  of  stern  voices  to  express  abhor- 
rence of  the  deed  committed,  even  among  those 
who  had  suggested  the  possibility  of  such  retri- 
bution befalling  the  road.  They  were  sincere 
in  their  utter  condemnation,  too.  Wild  and  ex- 
aggerated speech  might  be  only  an  American 
citizen's  prerogative,  but  an  act  like  this  was 
inhuman. 

Rachel  lingered  but  a  moment  after  the  relief 
arrived.  She  shrank  from  all  questioning, 
though,  indeed,  there  was  nothing  to  tell  be- 
yond the  mere  fact  of  the  way  in  which  the  mis- 
chief was  discovered.  She  had  not  realized 
how  strong  was  her  excitement,  nor  how  tense 


260      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

it  had  held  her  nerves,  until  she  was  free  and 
all  danger  past ;  then  she  found  her  temples 
throbbing  and  her  step  unsteady  as  she  walked 
again  along  the  winding  road.  A  rattle  of 
carriage-wheels  sounded  behind  her,  the  vehi- 
cle drew  nearer,  and  paused  at  her  side. 

"  Miss  Lyndal ! "  said  a  quick,  clear  voice, 
and  Dr.  Kelsey  sprang  to  the  ground.  "You 
must  ride  home." 

He  did  not  ask  her  to  do  so,  but  his  swift 
glance  at  her  face  said  that  he  read  her  fatigue 
and  unfitness  to  walk,  and  she  accepted  the 
authoritative  tone  as  "professional,"  and  yield- 
ed ;  nor  was  she  quite  sure,  in.  her  secret 
heart,  that  she  disliked  that  prompt  and  decid- 
ed way  of  taking  her  in  charge.  Only  she 
could  not  talk  to  any  one  then.  That  also  he 
seemed  to  understand,  and,  after  the  inter- 
change of  a  few  commonplace  sentences,  quiet- 
ly left  her  to  her  thoughts. 

Confused  and  troubled  thoughts  they  were, 
that,  even  when  she  had  reached  the  silence  of 


A   WOMAN'S  IMPULSE.  261 

her  own  room,  she  could  not  disentangle. 
What  had  she  learned  beyond  what  every  one 
knew?  There  was  nothing  to  be  done,  no  in- 
formation to  give.  Kitty's  words  had  been 
but  a  repetition,  doubtless,  of  the  talk  Joe  had 
heard  in  many  places,  from  many  careless  or 
angry  lips.  It  pointed  to  no  one  in  particular. 
Yet  even  while  the  girl  so  assured  herself,  a 
fear,  so  strong  that  it  was  almost  knowledge, 
pressed  upon  her  with  the  weight  of  a  dread 
secret. 

The  long  slant  rays  of  sunlight  faded  from 
hillside  and  garden,  and  twilight  settled  down 
upon  them  and  enveloped  the  town  below. 
Yet,  even  after  the  roofs  and  chimneys  of  the 
latter  were  veiled  in  the  gray  and  deepening 
gloom,  Rachel's  eyes  turned  constantly  thither- 
ward, watching  for,  apprehending,  she  knew 
not  what.  Suddenly  the  sharp  clang  of  a  bell 
was  heard  —  the  quick,  imperative  fire-alarm, 
caught  up  in  a  moment,  and  re-echoed  by 
hoarse  voices.  From  the  house  on  the  hill  a 


262      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

pillar  of  smoke  was  discernible  in  the  direction 
of  the  shops.  Presently  it  grew  luminous,  and 
then  a  slender  shaft  of  flame  shot  upward 
towards  the  sky. 

Standing  by  an  open  window,  Rachel 
watched  with  a  shivering  dread  of  something 
more  than  loss,  while  the  blaze  widened  and 
brightened,  then  speedily  wavered  and  grew 
low  and  lurid,  as  if  beneath  some  mighty  op- 
posing force,  and  died  in  clouds  of  smoke 
again.  With  straining  gaze  she  strove  to 
pierce  the  enfolding  cloud,  but  she  could  see 
nothing  more,  and,  forsaking  her  unsatisfactory 
post  of  observation,  she  threw  a  light  shawl 
around  her,  and  passed  down  the  walk  to  the 
gate.  Over  the  hills  beyond  the  river  the  moon 
was  rising,  showing  as  yet  but  a  faint  line  of 
light.  From  the  town  came  a  confused  mur- 
mur, a  mingling  of  sounds  breaking  the  stillness 
of  the  summer  night.  But  by  and  by,  separating 
itself  and  growing  distinct,  the  listener  caught 
the  tread  of  hurrying  feet  and  distant,  excited 


A    WOMAN'S  IMPULSE.  263 

voices,  as  of  some  one  running,  and  others  in 
pursuit. 

She  drew  back  a  little,  within  the  shadow 
of  the  arched  gateway,  as  a  dark  form  ap- 
peared, showing  but  dimly  in  the  faint  light, 
and  then  a  heavy  panting  breath  fell  on  her 
ear. 

"Joe  !  Joe  Baines  !  "  she  said  with  sure  in- 
tuition. 

"They's  hard  after  me,"  answered  Joe  in  a 
husky,  breathless  whisper,  scarcely  pausing. 
"  I'm  'most  beat  out." 

"  Quick  !  follow  me  !  " 

She  turned  out  of  the  path  into  the  cover  of 
trees  and  shrubbery,  and  so,  unobserved,  hast- 
ened towards  the  house  while  he  followed  un- 
questioningly.  Around  to  a  side  entrance, 
through  a  quiet,  unlighted  h'all,  and  up  a  flight 
of  stairs  to  a  remote  unoccupied  room,  she 
swiftly  led  the  way. 

"  Stay  here,  and  be  silent.  Do  not  attempt 
to  go  until  I  come  again,"  she  said  hurriedly. 


264   RACHEL: s  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD 

Then  closing  the  door  upon  him,  she  enforced 
her  order  by  turning  the  key  in  the  lock. 

Lanterns  were  flashing  along  the  hillside, 
and  voices  sounded  outside  the  garden  wall  as 
she  descended  to  the  hall.  The  pursuers  had 
lost  sight  of  the  fugitive.  They  had  been  a  little 
further  up  the  road,  and  turned  again  baffled. 

"  He  has  dodged  in  here  !  Must  have  come 
in  here  ! "  declared  a  chorus  of  excited  tones 
at  the  gateway,  and  in  a  moment  the  lights 
were  twinkling  amid  the  shrubbery.  Two  or 
three,  leaders  of  the  party,  consulted  hastily 
for  a  minute,  then  advanced  to  the  house  and 
were  admitted. 

What  had  she  done  !  Why  had  she  done 
it !  Rachel  did  not  pause  to  answer  the  doubt 
and  question  flashed  through  her  mind.  She 
hesitated  a  moment,  and  then,  as  the  only  nat- 
ural thing  to  be  done,  entered  the  room  from 
which  the  voices  issued.  Her  grandmother 
was  there.  The  alarm  of  fire  had  drawn  her 
from  her  own  apartment  to  the  parlors  below, 


A    WOMAN'S  IMPULSE.  265 

which  overlooked  the  town  ;  and  the  startled 
servants  were  lingering  about  the  doorway 
while  the  officers  explained  their  errand. 

"  Yes'm,  he  was  as  good  as  seen  to  set  the  fire. 
It  was  the  carpenter-shop,  and  meant  to  sweep 
the  whole  thing,  but  it  was  discovered  soon 
enough  to  stop  it  before  any  great  damage 
was  done.  Some  one  saw  him  creeping  away 
with  sticks  and  stuff  in  his  hand.  We  gave 
chase,  but  lost  him  up  hereabouts.  He  must 
be  round  here  somewhere." 

"  No  one  here  would  harbor  such  a  wretch  for 
an  instant,"  answered  the  old  lady  with  stately 
dignity.  "We  should  certainly  aid  his  capture 
by  any  means  in  our  power.  Judge  Lyndal's 
position  is  a  sufficient  guaranty  of  that." 

"  Oh,  certainly,  madam  !  certainly,"  interpos- 
ed the  officer,  somewhat  abashed.  "We  only 
meant  he  might  have  slipped  in  unknown,  or 
have  been  seen  by  some  one  who  didn't  know 
what  he  was,"  —  with  a  glance  towards  the 
servants. 


266      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF' THE  ROAD. 

They  declared  at  once  that  they  had  seen  no 
suspicious  character,  no  stranger  of  any  sort 
about  the  place. 

"Do  you  know  who  he  is?"  asked  Rachel. 
She  wondered  afterwards  that  she  had  sufficient 
presence  of  mind  to  frame  the  question,  or  com- 
mand of  voice  to  ask  it.  But  she  did  ask  it 
quite  calmly. 

"No,  ma'am  —  miss  —  queerly  enough,  we've 
no  idea ;  only  it  was  some  big  fellow.  He  wasn't 
seen  close  by,  you  know.  Most  likely  he  was 
the  same  one  that  tore  up  the  track  this  after- 
noon." 

"Search  the  grounds  thoroughly,  or  any- 
where about  the  place  that  you  may  think  ne- 
cessary. Our  people  will  afford  you  any  help 
in  their  power,"  said  Mrs.  Lyndal,  again  ex- 
pressing the  hope  that  such  villany  might  be 
speedily  brought  to  justice. 

But  Rachel  said  nothing,  though  she  watch- 
ed the  torches  and  lanterns  scouring  the 
grounds  unavailingly,  and  saw  the  search 


A    WOMAN'S  IMPULSE.  267 

guided  by  some  of  the  servants  —  to  whom  the 
sensation  and  excitement  were  not  a  disagreea- 
ble novelty — prosecuted  even  in  the  lower  halls 
and  some  portions  of  the  house  where  a  fugitive 
might  possibly  have  slipped  in  unobserved. 
And  silently  she  watched  the  discomfited  band 
finally  turn  away  and  disappear  up  the  road. 

A  little  later  her  father  came,  only  for  a  brief 
stay,  however  ;  he  was  going  out  that  evening 
by  a  special  train.  There  would  be  no  further 
danger  at  Craig's  Cross,  he  said,  so  vigilant  a 
guard  would  be  kept.  The  mischief  already 
done  had  been,  as  nearly  as  he  could  learn,  but 
the  work  of  one. 

"  What  would  be  done  with  him  if —  if  he 
were  discovered?  "  asked  Rachel  doubtfully. 

There  was  a  sudden  flint-like  flash  in  the 
Judge's  eyes,  a  cold  hard  ring  to  his  voice,  as 
he  answered  quietly, — 

"  He  will  be  sent  to  the  penitentiary  —  for 
the  longest  term  the  law  can  give,  if  my  in- 
fluence or  money  will  avail  anything.  I  would 


268      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

use  both  unsparingly  to  have  him  made  a  con- 
spicuous example." 

The  girl's  lips  closed  again  over  her  secret 
—  pale  quivering  lips  that  seemed  to  herself 
almost  Judas-like  as,  presently,  she  raised  them 
for  her  father's  matter-of-course,  pre-occupied 
kiss  of  good-by. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

AWAY  IN  THE  DAWN. 

TN  her  beautiful  room,  where  every  surround- 
ing  was  a  suggestion  of  luxurious  ease 
and  repose,  Rachel's  light  feet  paced  restlessly 
that  night.  To  and  fro,  with  bowed  head  and 
tightly  clasped  hands,  as  if  hurrying  steps 
might  aid  her  escape  from  the  maze  of  conflict- 
ing thoughts.  What  had  she  done?  What 
must  she  do  ?  What  impulse  —  was  it  heavenly 
or  insane?  —  had  prompted  her  to  take  into 
her  weak,  ignorant  girlish  hands  this  fearful 
weight  of  responsibility  ? 

At  an  earlier  hour,  while  some  of  the  house- 
hold were  yet  astir,  she  had  borne  food  to  her 
prisoner ;  but  she  had  only  placed  it  upon  a 
small  table  just  within  the  door,  and  briefly 

whispered  that  he  must  still  wait.     She  could 

269 


270     RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

'decide  upon  nothing  then,  and  though  hours 
had  since  passed  she  still  pondered  in  doubt 
and  dread.  Every  righteous  conviction,  every 
humane  feeling  within  her,  shrank  in  horror 
from  the  crimes  this  man  had  committed  —  or 
attempted.  The  law  laid  heavy  doom  upon 
such,  justly.  Had  she  any  right,  ought  she  to 
have  had  a  wish,  to  interpose?  Was  she  wiser 
than  all  the  world  besides,  that  she  had  dared 
to  thwart  its  justice  and  shield  this  criminal? 
She  knew  how  sternly  nearly  every  voice 
would  condemn  her  act ;  how  the  most  chari- 
table, knowing  it,  would  judge  it  but  the 
weakest  of  pity,  a  short-sighted  and  culpable 
pity,  that  could  turn  such  a  man  loose  upon 
society  again. 

Did  God  view  it  just  the  same  ?  she  wondered, 
lifting  her  eyes.  Oh,  if  she  knew !  or  if  the 
decision  could  but  rest  with  another  !  But  her 
own  act  had  made  it  hers,  and  she  must  accept 
it  now  with  whatever  it  involved.  And  more, 
through  all  the  turmoil  of  feeling,  she  could 


A  WA  T  IN  THE  DA  WN.  271 

not  regret  what  she  had  done.  Some  simple 
words  of  Kitty's  ran,  a  steady  undertone, 
through  all  her  perplexity  :  "  I  don't  know  what 
we'd  do  'thout  Joe  —  he  do  be  that  good  to  us. 
Ever  sence  Meg  died,  him  an'  me  has  kept  us 
all,  somehow."  She  remembered  the  unvarying 
good-nature  of  his  heavy  face  as  she  had  seen 
him  in  the  months  past,  his  simple  content- 
ment and  satisfaction  with  the  hard  work  that 
provided  so  coarsely  for  his  little  home ;  his 
awkward  gratitude  to  herself,  and  his  uncouth, 
but  honest  and  unselfish,  pride  in  that  burden- 
some legacy  of  a  dead  sister,  the  twins. 

Were  others  guiltless  in  this  change  that  des- 
peration had  wrought?  Did  the  sin  of  this 
day's  deed  lie  indeed  no  further  back  than  in 
poor  Joe's  own  dull  brain  and  rough  hands? 
If  but  a  tithe  of  the  money  offered  so  lavishly 
to  procure  his  conviction  and  lengthened  pun- 
ishment had  been  expended  in  keeping  him 
useful  and  innocent ! 

Rachel   was  no   mere    sentimentalist.     She 


272      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

cherished  no  Utopian  dreams  of  having  the 
world's  treasures  equally  divided.  She  was 
brave  enough  to  have  accepted  honest  poverty 
if  it  had  fallen  to  her  lot,  and  she  was  cultured 
and  luxurious  enough  to  have  thoroughly  en- 
joyed honest  wealth  and  all  it  brought.  But  it 
was  the  knowledge  that  had  come  to  her 
through  her  share  of  the  road  —  the  wrongs  she 
knew,  and  others  but  dimly  surmised  —  that 
made  her  sometimes  feel  among  these  people 
almost  the  humility  of  one  who  had  defrauded 
them.  As  she  looked  around  her  room,  rich 
and  beautiful  in  all  that  money  could  bestow 
and  perfect  taste  dispose,  a  sudden  vision  of 
Joe  in  prison  garments  toiling  on  through 
weary  hopeless  years  of  bondage  —  poor,  igno- 
rant, desperate,  only  more  brutalized  by  what 
he  suffered  —  smote  her  with  its  sharp  con- 
trast. 

"  It  shall  not  be  ! "  she  said.  "  I  do  not  know 
if  it  is  Heaven's  justice  or  only  a  woman's  pity 
that  I  am  showing,  but,  at  least,  God  has  put 


A  WA  T  IN  THE  DA  WN.  273 

into  my  hands  the  power  to  give  him  one  more 
chance,  and  I  can  do  nothing  else." 

From  a  small  cabinet  near  her,  a  dainty 
combination  of  pearl  and  ebony,  she  drew  a 
roll  of  bills,  smiling  half  sadly  as  she  remem- 
bered the  careless  lavishness  with  which  they 
had  been  given  her.  "  I  suppose  a  marvellous 
outfit  must  be  arranged  for  that  wonderful  re- 
ception at  Corry's,"  her  father  had  said,  drop- 
ping the  money  in  her  lap.  His  paternal  duty 
thus  done,  he  was  not  one  to  notice  afterwards 
whether  she  appeared  in  velvet  or  serge  ;  and 
for  herself  she  had  felt  no  inclination  for  dis- 
play or  novelty.  So  the  sum  given  her  had 
remained  intact,  and  there  seemed  to  her  a 
peculiar  fitness  in  using  it  as  she  now  designed. 

In  the  gray  of  the  early  dawn  she  sought 
again  the  distant  room  where  her  captive 
waited.  The  dull  face  — dull  still,  but  haggard 
and  wretched  —  turned  towards  her  as  she 
entered.  She  had  not  thought  what  she  should 
say  to  him,  had  planned  no  wise  speech  of 


274      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

advice  or  warning,  but  as  she  met  his  look,  the 
words  burst  forth  impetuously  : 
O  Joe  !     Why  did  you  do  it?  " 

He  began  twisting  his  great  hands  nervously 
together,  and  repeated  the  thought  that  had 
been  in  his  mind  for  days. 

"They've  been  hard  on  me  —  everybody 
has." 

"And  you,  knowing  how  hard  it  is  to  bear 
all  this,  would  have  brought  the  same  on  others 
if  you  could?  You  would  burn  the  shops,  and 
so  throw  other  poor  men  out  of  work,  and  leave 
their  families  to  suffer  as  yours  has  done  ?  "  she 
demanded.  "And  that  broken  track  —  O 
Joe!  how  could  you  plan  so  awful  a  deed? 
Throwing  over  that  bank  cars  filled  with  men, 
women  and  little  innocent  children  —  those 
who  never  harmed  you  —  to  be  crushed, 
mangled  or  burned  to  death  !  " 

A  look  of  mingled  bewilderment  and  dread 
crept  gradually  over  his  face  as  he  slowly 
caught  the  meaning  of  her  words.  His  eyes 


A  WA  T  IN  THE  DA  WN  275 

opened  wide,  as  if,  even  before  his  sluggish 
sight,  a  vision  of  horror  were  rising. 

"I  —  I  didn't  think  noways  'bout  them  — 
the  folks.  'Twas  the  comp'ny,"  he  muttered. 

"  The  company  !  It  would  have  been  only 
loss  of  property  to  them,"  she  said  sadly,  M  only 
a  matter  of  dollars  !  But  what  money  could 
undo  all  the  suffering  of  those  thrown  out  of 
work  by  the  burning  of  the  shops,  or  bring 
back  the  murdered  to  those  who  loved  them  ?  " 

Her  look  and  tone  seemed  to  reach  his  com- 
prehension more  clearly  than  her  language. 
He  crouched  lower  on  the  floor  in  the  corner 
where  he  sat.  The  uneasy  motion  of  his 
hands  grew  more  rapid,  a  visible  tremor  shook 
his  frame,  then  he  drew  a  long  breath  as  if 
trying  to  shake  off  some  horrible  nightmare. 

"'T ain't  done!  " 

"No,  thank  God!" 

"So  I  does."  He  looked  up  as  if  her  excla- 
mation had  been  an  injunction.  "  I  didn't  mean 
nothin'  to  'em  —  to  them  folks.  I  wouldn't 


276      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

have  hurt  none  of  'em.  But  it's  been  hard  on 
me,"  —  going  back  to  the  old  explanation. 
"They  turns  me  out,  an'  I  couldn't  get  no 
work.  They  tells  me  two  big  hands'll  earn 
me  a  livin',  but  they  gives  me  nothin'  to  do. 
Went  everywheres,  an'  nobody  would  have  me. 
If  I  asks  for  things  to  eat,  why,  they  tells  me  a 
big  beggar  like  me  better  go  to  work  —  an'  I 
can't  get  none  nowheres.  When  I  goes  a-look- 
in',  they  locks  me  up  an'  calls  me  a  tramp. 
That's  how  it's  been.  'Tain't  no  use ;  there's 
nothin'  —  nowheres.  Hitty  an'  the  babies  must 
live.  I  promised  Meg  I'd  take  care  of 'em,  — 
do  my  level  best,  —  an'  now  they're  gettin' 
hungrier  an'  raggeder  —  " 

There  was  a  choking  sound  in  his  throat. 
He  looked  down  again  at  the  empty,  impotent 
hands. 

"  I  can't  do  nothin' .  There's  houses  an' 
houses  —  I  looked  in  winders,  trampin'  up  an' 
down  —  all  rich  an'  soft ;  an'  folks  wearin'  gold 
an'  shinin'  stones,  just  in  their  hair  or  on  their 


A  WA  T  IN  THE  DA  WN.  277 

necks,  that'd  keep  Hitty  an'  the  childern. 
They  has  all,  an'  we  has  nothin'.  'Tain't  right 
—  God  knows  'tain't  right !  " 

"  Aye  !  He  does  ! "  the  girl  answered  solemn- 
ly, tears  standing  in  the  earnest  eyes  fixed  full 
upon  him. 

"An'  now  it's  this  way.  'Tain't  no  use; 
they'll  ketch  me,  I  s'pose." 

"  No,"  she  said,  "they  will  not.  O  Joe  !  I 
hardly  know  if  I  am  right  or  wrong,  —  paying 
a  premium  on  crime,  or  saving  a  soul,  —  but  I 
will  help  you.  You  must  go  away.  No  one 
knows  who  is  guilty,  but  they  will  if  you  stay." 
For,  aside  from  the  hopelessness  of  his  obtain- 
ing employment  there,  she  knew  that  he  could 
not  be  trusted  to  guard  his  own  secret.  "You 
must  leave  here  and  go  away  to  the  West. 
Far  away  it  is  not  so  crowded,  and  you  may 
find  something  to  do  ;  or  you  may  buy  land  — 
it  is  very  cheap  there. 

He  had  been  listening  attentively,  and  his 
gaze  brightened  a  little  as  at  some  new  hope. 


278      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

"If  I  could  anyways  —  'cause  I  helped  Meg's 
husband.  It's  better'n  shops ;  you  can't  be 
turned  out." 

"Try  to  get  a  little  place,  then,  for  yourself. 
You  can  find  where,  and  this  will  help  you." 
She  placed  the  roll  of  bills  in  his  hand.  "  And 
as  soon  as  you  can,  send  for  Hitty  and  the 
children.  I  will  look  after  them  until  then." 

He  looked  at  her,  then  at  the  money  in  his 
hand,  turning  it  over  slowly.  It  seemed  an 
immense  sum. 

"  Do  not  lose  it ;  be  careful,  and  tell  no  one 
what  has  happened  here.  O  Joe  — "  she 
paused.  As  she  had  once  said  to  Annice 
Lisle,  she  was  "not  good  at  preaching,"  but  a 
few  earnest  words  came  from  her  full  heart. 
"Whatever  happens,  whoever  else  may  be  hard, 
Christ  cares.  He,  too,  was  poor  and  ill-treated. 
For  His  sake  suffer  wrong,  if  you  must,  but 
never  do  it.  Some  day,"  dropping  uncon- 
sciously into  an  old  phrase,  "the  Judge  will 
come  home." 


A  WA  T  IN  THE  DA  WN,  279 

She  opened  the  door,  waited  while  he  care- 
fully stowed  away  the  money  she  had  given 
him,  then  led  the  way  through  the  hushed  and 
sleeping  house,  down  to  the  outer  door  by 
which  she  had  admitted  him. 

"  Go  over  the  hill  into  the  country,  and  follow 
the  highway  until  you  strike  the  railroad  ten  or 
twelve  miles  from  here,"  she  advised. 

There  was  a  faint  gleam  of  light  across  the 
gray  of  the  east,  but  the  strange,  sweet  still- 
ness of  a  summer  morning  lay  over  the  earth. 
Until  he  breathed  the  outer  air,  and  saw  the 
free  road  before  him,  Joe  scarcely  seemed  to 
understand  what  had  been  done  for  him.  He 
glanced  at  the  sky,  then  at  Rachel,  silently, 
but  with  a  look  in  his  eyes  that  his  dog's  might 
have  worn  —  dumb,  appealing,  almost  adoring. 
He  descended  the  steps,  turned  suddenly  on 
the  lower  one,  and  pressed  his  lips  to  the  hem 
of  her  white  dress,  then  walked  swiftly  away. 

Languor  and  heavy  eyes  awakened  neither 
surprise  nor  inquiry  that  morning.  The  state 


280      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

of  affairs  in  the  town,  and  the  alarm  of  the  pre- 
vious evening,  were  deemed  a  sufficient  expla- 
nation, and  Rachel  was  thankful  that  she  so 
escaped  all  questioning  ;  that  the  fits  of  abstrac- 
tion, the  pre-occupied  manner  which  all  her 
efforts  could  not  make  quite  natural,  passed  un- 
noticed, or,  at  least,  unremarked.  She  tried  to 
atone  for  the  night's  vigil  by  sleeping  as  the 
morning  hours  wore  away,  but  slumber  would 
not  come  at  call.  She  started  nervously  at 
every  sound.  Every  step  seemed  bringing  the 
tidings  of  Joe's  capture  ;  every  peal  of  the  door- 
bell held  some  message  of  dread.  She  was 
tortured  by  fears  that  she  had  not  given  him 
sufficient  directions  or  cautions,  that  he  had 
not  fully  understood  her,  that  something  she 
had  done,  or  left  undone,  would  mar  all.  She 
was  in  no  mood  to  review  the  matter  calmly,  if 
indeed  there  had  been  use  in  reviewing  it  at 
all. 

"  Mrs.  Lyndal  says  she  would  be  glad  if  you 
could  bring  your  work  to  her  room  for  an  hour 


A  WA  T  IN  THE  DA  WN.  28 1 

or  two,"  announced  rosy-cheeked  Hannah, 
pausing  at  the  open  door  and  looking  in  upon 
Rachel,  whoseu  sole  occupation  was  that  of 
gazing  dreamily  from  the  window.  "  O  Miss 
Rachel,  wouldn't  it  be  a  dreadful  thing  if  some- 
body should  try  to  burn  this  house  down?  I 
dreamed  about  it  last  night." 

"I  do  not  think  there  is  any  danger,"  the 
young  lady  answered.  Then  she  thought  of 
Mr.  Corry's  house  and  all  that  had  been  said 
of  it,  and  was  silent  for  a  moment.  "  Still  I  do 
not  believe  it  will  be  molested,"  she  said  aloud, 
as  the  conclusion  of  her  reflection. 

"  But  there's  been  so  many  queer  doings  and 
troubles,"  suggested  Hannah  doubtfully.  "And 
Mrs.  Shackles  said  the  other  day  that  there 
were  signs  in  the  sky,  too." 

"  Mrs.  Shackles'  signs  in  the  sky  are  like 
her  roots  in  the  earth  —  a  part  of  her  stock  in 
trade,"  Rachel  smiled  ;  and  the  girl  went  away, 
not  wholly  understanding,  but  somewhat  re- 
assured. 


282    RACHEL: s  SHARE  OF  TPIE  ROAD. 

The  one  topic  was  everywhere.  If  she  tried 
to  escape  from  her  own  tormenting  thoughts  by 
talking  with  any  one,  it  confronted  her  at  the 
first  sentence.  She  shrank  from  complying 
with  her  grandmother's  request,  but  it  could 
not  be  refused.  Its  wording  reminded  her  that 
she  had  no  employment ;  and  taking  up  a  bit 
of  embroidery,  —  a  mere  pretext  for  busying 
fingers,  —  she  passed  slowly  up  the  stairs,  won- 
dering anxiously  whether  there  could  be  any 
special  reason  for  the  invitation  —  any  infor- 
mation received,  or  troublesome  questions  that 
might  be  asked.  But  there  was  nothing. 

"  Only  this  seems  the  quietest  room  in  the 
house,  my  dear,  and  you  must  need  rest  after 
last  night,"  explained  the  old  lady.  "  I  am  not 
naturally  timid,  I  am  sure,  but  I  really  was 
unable  to  sleep  after  all  the  disturbance.  The 
idea  of  that  wretch  being  secreted  somewhere 
about  the  grounds,  or  possibly  in  the  house  it- 
self, was  horrible  !  I  am  sure  I  should  never 
have  thought  of  it  if  those  men  had  not  sug- 


A  WA  T  IN  THE  DA  WN.  283 

gested  it  by  their  absurd  search.  They  seemed 
so  sure  that  they  had  traced  him  so  far.  You 
do  not  suppose  it  possible,  Rachel,  that  he 
can  be  lurking  anywhere  about  the  prem- 
ises?" 

vNo,  I  am  sure  he  is  not, "'answered  Rachel 
positively.  "I  have  not  the  slightest  fear  of 
that." 

"  I  did  not  say  that  I  had  fear,"  said  the  old 
lady,  slightly  resenting  that  word.  "But  it 
would  be  a  very  grave  misfortune  to  have  such 
a  villain  elude  justice  through  any  carelessness 
or  over-confidence  of  ours,  aside  from  any 
danger  of  his  attempting  any  further  deeds  of 
violence  here.  I  think  it  might  be  only  a 
proper  precaution  to  have  the  servants  search 
the  house  thoroughly  by  daylight — every  room 
from  attic  to  cellar,  and  the  grounds  and  out- 
buildings." 

"  Yes ;  I  will  go  and  give  the  order,  grand- 
mamma," said  Rachel  hurriedly. 

"There  is  no  need,  my  child;    I  will  ring," 


284      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

began    Mrs.    Lyndal   with  her   usual    stately 
composure.     But  Rachel  arose  at  once. 

"I  will  explain  it  to  Larrison,"  she  said,  and 
hastened  away  to  avoid  further  objection,  her 
heart  beating  quickly  with  a  new  fear.  What 
if  some  trace  had  been  left,  some  article 
dropped?  She  ran  to  the  unfrequented  stair- 
way, and  followed  the  route  she  had  taken  the 
previous  evening  until  she  stood  again  in  the 
distant  unoccupied  room.  There  was  nothing 
to  tell  the  story.  So  still,  commonplace  and 
undisturbed  it  looked,  that  she  could  have 
fancied  the  whole  occurrence  had  been  but  a 
feverish  dream.  Her  throbbing  pulses  grew 
slower.  She  went  down  and  conferred  with 
Mrs.  Larrison,  and  returned  to  the  invalid's 
room  again.  "  I  presume  they  will  discover 
nothing,  but  at  least  it  will  give  them  some- 
thing to  do,  and  satisfy  them  so  that  they  will 
stop  chattering  and  imagining  everything,  I 
hope,"  commented  Mrs.  Lyndal,  trying  to  find 
some  good  reason  for  her  course  other  than 


A  WA  T  IN  THE  DA  WN.  285 

the  nervousness  which  she  was  unwilling  to 
confess.  "I  believe  Hannah  has  been  really 
afraid  of  every  nook  and  corner  she  has  passed 
this  morning.'" 

"I  trust,"  she  remarked  presently,  "that  we 
shall  hear  of  the  miscreant's  capture  somewhere 
before  the  day  is  over.  How  perfectly  fiend- 
ish he  must  be  !  " 

Rachel's  needle  traced  unevenly  a  spray  of 
her  embroidery,  but  she  was  silent. 

"But  even  if  he  is  taken,  the  law  will  be  en- 
tirely too  lenient.  Imprisonment  for  such  a 
horrible  crime  ! " 

"It  was  horrible,"  assented  Rachel  in  a  low 
tone,  shuddering  as  she  spoke. 

The  old  lady  dropped  her  hands  in  her  lap  — 
delicate  well-preserved  hands,  despite  age  and 
illness  —  and  smoothed  the  folds  of  her  soft 
wrapper. 

"  The  penalty  ought  to  include  all  those  who 
have  in  any  way  encouraged  or  tolerated  this 
movement  among  the  lower  classes.  The 


286      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

whole  uprising  is  ignorant  and  suicidal,  and 
shows  to  what  lengths  greed  and  ingratitude 
will  go,"  she  proceeded.  "They  would  ruin 
their  employers  and  benefactors  because  they 
cannot  rule  everything  in  their  own  way." 

Through  the  girl's  mind  flitted  a  vague  ques- 
tioning of  what  foreign  element  in  her  own 
blood,  brain  or  heart  had  made  her  see  with 
different  eyes  from  those  of  her  kindred.  She 
'glanced  about  the  room  with  its  every  appliance 
of  ease  and  comfort,  its  costly  provision  for 
every  hour  of  pain  or  languor. 

"Grandmamma,  did  you  ever  try  to  imagine 
how  it  would  seem  to  be  poor?"  she  asked 
slowly. 

To  Mrs.  Lyndal  this  seemed  an  utterly  irrel- 
evant question,  and  she  was  not  wont  to  be 
patient  with  irrelevancy  in  any  one  whom  she 
was  honoring  with  her  conversation.  Still,  if 
the  girl  found  the  subject  under  discussion  too 
painful  and  exciting  after  the  events  of  the  pre- 
vious night,  she  might  be  pardoned  for  seeking 


A  WA  T  IN  THE  DA  WN.  287 

to  change  it.  The  old  lady  scrutinized  the 
pale  cheeks  for  a  moment,  and  charitably 
accepted  that  conclusion. 

"You- forget,  my  child,  that  I  was  a  Warner 
before  I  became  a  Lyndal  —  families  that  had 
little  connection  with  the  very  poor,  though 
they  did  not  possess  the  wealth  that  my  son 
has  since  attained,"  she  said  proudly.  "I  cer- 
tainly have  had  no  experience  as  one  of  the 
class  to  which  you  refer,  and  no  cause  or  de- 
sire to  imagine  myself  one  of  them.  In  my 
young  days  girls  were  taught  to  adorn  the  sta- 
tion in  which  they  found  themselves,  and  not 
allow  their  fancies  to  run  wild.  What  pleas- 
ure can  there  be  in  imagining  one's  self  in  im- 
probable, not  to  say  impossible,  situations?  " 

But,  as  she  watched  the  bowed  head  and 
grave,  sweet  face,  there  suddenly  flashed  upon 
old  Mrs.  Lyndal  a  memory  of  the  child's 
mother.  Her  son's  marriage  with  that  delicate, 
sensitive-souled,  shrinking  girl,  whose  eyes 
seemed  always  looking  into  a  world  beyond 


288      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

the  e very-day  one,  had  always  appeared  to  her 
the  one  unwise  and  incomprehensible  act  of  his 
life.  However,  the  young  mother  had  died 
early,  and  her  daughter  was  as  entirely  a 
Lyndal  as  education  could  make  her. 

"Rachel,"  observed  her  grandmother  sud- 
denly, "  I  really  think  that,  when  these  troubles 
are  over,  you  should  go  away  for  a  time.  The 
old  house  is  too  dull  for  a  young  girl  like 
you." 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

AWAY  IN  THE  STORM. 

'THHE  long  morning,  outwardly  so  beautiful, 
•^  dragged  heavily,  but  its  slow  hours 
passed  without  bringing  tidings  of  any  kind. 
At  noon  the  bright  summer  sky  clouded.  Ra- 
chel, in  her  pre-occupation,  did  not  at  first  ob- 
serve it,  but  when  she  did,  it  startled  her  into 
action.  She  must  see  Hitty  that  day  —  must 
communicate  with  her  herself,  and  so  prevent 
her  making  inquiries  elsewhere,  as  she  might 
soon  do  if  she  received  no  explanation  of  her 
brother's  absence. 

She  dressed  in  trembling  haste  lest  a  storm 
might  prevent  her  going,  and,  though  she  felt 
her  already  overtaxed  strength  scarcely  equal 
to  the  walk,  set  forth  on  foot,  fearing  that  her 
carriage  might  in  some  way  attract  attention 

289 


2pO      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

to  the  old  railway  car.  Choosing  the  most 
unfrequented  route,  she  hastened  her  steps, 
but  the  summer  storm  swept  up  swiftly.  Clouds 
gathered  and  darkened,  the  thunder  changed 
from  low  mutterings  to  louder,  more  threaten- 
ing peals,  and  before  she  reached  the  meadow, 
the  rain  was  falling  upon  her  in  heavy,  plashing 
drops. 

Hitty  met  her  at  the  door  with  an  expression 
of  relief. 

"I  do  be  glad  somebody's  come,"  she  said, 
with  a  little  quiver  breaking  the  usually  grave 
quiet  of  her  lips. 

"What  is  it?  Any  trouble,"  questioned  Ra- 
chel with  fast-beating  heart.  But  it  was  quite 
different  from  her  thought. 

"  Daddy.  He's  been  that  sick  an'  queer-like 
ever  since  mornin'."  She  pointed  to  the  cot 
where  the  old  man  lay,  pallid  and  breathing 
heavily,  but  with  eyes  unwontedly  bright. 
"  He  wasn't  just  so  bad  early,  an'  I  thought 
mebby  he'd  be  gettin'  better,  so  'twould  be  only 


A  WAT  IN  THE  STORM.  2pl 

a  spell.  Then  when  it  be  gettin'  worse  on  him, 
like  this,  I  was  feared  to  leave  him  to  go  any- 
wheres. Joe's  gone  somewheres,  he  didn't  be 
home  all  night.  There  wasn't  nobody  but  me, 
an'  I  couldn't  leave  Daddy  'long  of  the  babies." 

Rachel  hastily  threw  off  her  damp  wrap- 
pings, and  drew  a  little  nearer  to  the  couch. 

"You  must  have  a  doctor  !  "  she  said,  shrink- 
ing back  at  the  strange  look  creeping  over  the 
withered  face. 

But  even  as  she  spoke  the  rain  fell  in  blind- 
ing sheets  that  barred,  for  the  time,  all  possi- 
bility of  seeking  aid.  Hitty  looked  at  the  driv- 
ing storm,  then  back  at  her  visitor  silently. 

"I  will  go  myself  as  soon .-35  I  can,"  Rachel 
answered  the  glance.  M  Hitty,  I  saw  Joe  this 
morning.  He  was  going  away  to  find  a  place 
and  work.  I  promised  to  tell  you,  and  look 
after  you.  You  are  to  use  this,  and  to  let  me 
know  when  you  need  anything.  He  will  send 
for  you  as  soon  as  he  can." 

She  placed  money  in  her  hand  —  a   small 


2p2      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

sum,  for  her  treasury  was  entirely  depleted 
now ;  but  to  Hitty,  with  her  frugal  ideas  of 
outlay,  it  appeared  no  despicable  amount. 

"I  didn't  know  he  did  be  earnin'  so  much 
these  days  he's  out,"  she  said  in  some  wonder- 
ment, but  with  no  thought  other  than  that  Joe 
had  sent  it.  "  He  does  often  be  out  lookin'  for 
work,  ma'am." 

She  accepted  the  explanation  so  simply  and 
unquestioningly  that  there  was  need  of  say- 
ing nothing  more,  and  Rachel  sat  beside  her 
silently,  waiting  for  the  storm  to  subside. 
With  her  transient  uneasiness  at  Joe's  absence 
removed,  and  a  present  provision  against  want, 
all  Hitty's  anxiety  turned  to  the  old  man,  her 
grandfather,  lying  so  helplessly,  noticing  noth- 
ing around  him,  moaning  occasionally,  but 
oftener  murmuring  brokenly. 

"  Come  to-morrer  —  houses  an'  clo'es  an' 
dinners  —  have  dinners,  Hitty?" 

"  Carriages  an'  velvety  sofys  an'  pianners," 
answered  the  child  mechanically. 


A  WA  T  IN  THE  STORM.  293 

But  he  did  not  seem  to  hear  her  or  to  be 
conscious  of  her  presence. 

"  Horses,  clo'es  an'  carriages  —  come  to-mor- 
rer.  Houses  an'  dinners,"  he  repeated,  linger- 
ing over  the  list  of  treasures  that,  to  his  vision, 
had  always  been  just  within  grasp.  "The 
prize  —  to-morrer." 

The  gray  shadow  that  precluded  for  him  all 
earthly  to-morrows  was  even  then  stealing 
over  his  face.  Rachel,  though  all  unskilled 
in  such  reading,  could  not  mistake  it.  She 
looked  at  Hitty  questioningly,  but  could  not 
tell  if  the  grave  eyes,  watching  so  steadily, 
saw  as  she  did.  She  glanced  at  the  windows  ; 
the  storm  still  forbade  all  purpose  of  seeking 
companionship  or  assistance.  Wilder  and 
more  fearful  it  grew,  the  wind  blowing  in  terri- 
ble gusts  that  wrenched  and  tore  the  trees  in 
its  path,  and  the  sky  darkening  until  the  nar- 
row apartment  lay  in  twilight  gloom  except  as 
it  was  illumined  by  the  glare  of  the  lightning. 

Into   what    strange     companionships,    what 


294      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

awful  responsibilities,  her  wandering  from 
beaten  paths  had  brought  her,  Rachel  mused 
as  she  sat  there.  Who,  of  all  who  knew  her, 
would  dream  of  finding  her  in  such  a  place  as 
this?  The  situation,  the  darkness  and  dread 
of  that  hour  of  helpless  waiting,  was  terrible 
to  her  already  overburdened  spirit ;  but  even  so 
she  could  not  wish  herself  away  while  this 
child  must  bear  it  all  —  while  the  sad  dark 
eyes,  looking  so  large  in  the  pinched,  patient 
little  face,  turned  silently  to  hers  for  support 
and  comforting. 

Here,  at  least,  there  was  no  talk  of  the  last 
night's  trouble.  No  rumor  of  it  had  reached 
the  old  car.  With  a  sudden  thought  Rachel 
assured  herself  of  that. 

"Hitty,  did  you  see  the  fire  last  evening?" 
she  asked. 

"No,  ma'am,"  Hitty  answered  quietly  and 
with  no  interest. 

"Have  you  seen  Mrs.  Shackles  lately  — 
yesterday  ?  " 


A  WA  T  IN  THE  STORM.  295 

"  No,  ma'am.  She  don't  come  these  few 
days." 

The  old  man  caught  the  last  words,  and 
moved  uneasily. 

"  Will  it  come  in  a  few  days  —  a  soft  bed  an' 
dinners  an'  everything?  Will  it,  Clary?" 

"Yes,  Daddy,  yes,"  said  Hitty  soothingly. 
"He's  called  me  that  by  turns  all  day,"  she 
added  in  a  lower  tone.  "  'Twas  granny's 
name,  but  he's  forgot." 

"Sing,  Clary  —  sing,"  quavered  the  weak 
voice. 

"He  do  be  sayin'  that  often,  too,"  explained 
Hitty.  "I  can't  sing  nothin',  but  he  do  be  say- 
in'  it  over  an'  over." 

"  Sing,  Clary  —  can't  ye  sing  ?  "  The  feeble 
voice  broke  into  a  wail. 

"If — you  could,  ma'am"  —  hesitated  Hitty, 
clasping  closely  her  little  rough  red  hands. 
"'Cause  it  do  hurt  so  to  hear  him." 

Something  —  the  little  room,  the  child's  face, 
or  some  more  subtile  association  —  suggested 


296      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

the  words  heard  in  the  old  school-house  ;  and 
commanding  her  trembling  voice,  Rachel  sang 
them  again  : 

'  For  weary  feet  awaits  the  street 
All  wondrous  paved  and  golden  — 
We're  going  home,  we're  going  home, 
We're  going  home  to-morrow." 

They  caught  the  dull  ear. 

"  Home  an'  goldy  streets  to-morrer  —  an' 
clo'es,  Clary  —  sing  1 " 

In  the  fury  of  the  storm  it  seemed  as  if  the 
world  were  being  torn  into  fragments  around 
them.  Involuntarily  to  the  girl's  lips  rose  that 
hymn  of  passionate  prayer  : 

"While  the  billows  round  me  roll, 
While  the  tempest  still  is  high, 
Hide  me,  oh  my  Saviour,  hide 

Till  the  storm  of  life  is  past! 
Safe  into  the  haven  guide, 

Oh,  receive  my  soul  at  last!  * 

Momently  the  tempest  increased  in  fury. 
The  lightning  came  in  broad  fiery  bolts,  followed 
instantly  by  the  thunder  in  deafening  crashes, 


A  WA  T  IN  THE  STORM.  297 

until  it  seemed  to  the  excited  watchers  that  earth 
and  sky  were  but  a  mingling  of  awful  sound 
and  wrathful  flame.  The  terrified  children 
clung  to  Hitty  and  hid  their  faces  in  her  lap, 
while  she  and  Rachel  sat  with  pale  cheeks. 
One  only  was  wholly  undisturbed  by,  uncon- 
scious of  it  all.  In  the  brief  hushes  of  wind 
and  thunder  came  the  murmur  of  his  voice, 
growing  slower  and  fainter. 

"  Horses  an'  clo'es  for  —  all  on  us." 
After  a  time  the  words  varied  a  little. 
"House  an'  wife  an'  chil'ren  —  to-morrer." 
Suddenly  a  gleam  of  lightning   seemed  to 
scorch  and  blind   as  if  wrapping  them  in  its 
blaze,  while   a  peal  of  thunder  more  terrific 
than  any  that  had  preceded  it,  shook  the  old 
car  as  if  rending  it  to  fragments.     Involunta- 
rily they  sprang  to  their  feet. 

"We  do  be  struck!"  exclaimed  Hitty,  still 
holding  fast  the  cowering  children. 

But  a  short  examination,  when  they  regain- 
ed sufficient  self-possession  to  make  one,  re- 


298      RACHEUS  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

vealed  the  fact  that  it  was  not  the  car,  but  a 
great  tree  close  beside  it,  that  had  been  shat- 
tered —  riven  from  its  top  to  the  great  uptorn 
roots.  It  absorbed  the  attention  of  all  for  a  few 
moments,  —  that  evidence  of  fearful  power  and 
of  their  own  narrow  escape,  —  all  but  that  one 
who  noticed  nothing.  When  they  turned  to 
him  again  the  feeble  voice  was  stilled,  and  he 
lay  motionless.  The  soul  had  swept  out  on 
the  tide  of  the  storm.  The  poor  life  that  had 
drawn  only  blanks  had  passed  to  seek  its  pos- 
sible prize  in  the  "land  that  is  very  far  off." 

Hitty  turned  to  Rachel  as  if  in  excuse  for  her 
grief. 

"  He  did  be  that  old  an'  weak  an'  wandery- 
like,  I  know,  ma'am,  but  he  was  Daddy ! " 

The  tempest  appeared  to  have  spent  its 
strength  in  that  last  mighty  sweep,  and  slowly 
abated.  The  wind  died  in  long  sobbing 
breaths,  the  lightning  grew  less  frequent  and 
vivid,  the  thunder  sullen  and  low.  As  soon  as 
the  rain  slackened  so  that  she  could  venture 


A  WAT  IN  THE  STORM.  299 

forth,  Rachel  threw  a  shawl  around  her  and  left 
the  car.  But  she  paused  on  the  steps.  A  horse 
and  carriage,  detained  somewhere  by  the 
storm,  were  speeding  along  the  road  that  skirt- 
ed the  meadow.  She  knew  the  equipage  well, 
the  one  above  all  others  she  would  have  chosen 
to  see,  and  her  voice  —  would  any  other  have 
been  heard  so  surely?  —  reached  its  occupant 
at  once. 

Her  pale  face  and  Kitty's  tearful  eyes  told  a 
story  of  need  that  Dr.  Kelsey  understood  more 
quickly  than  their  trembling  words.  He  made 
a  brief  examination  of  the  form  lying  on  the 
cot.  There  was  nothing  for  medical  skill  to 
do,  nothing,  indeed,  that  it  could  have  done 
earlier,  he  assured  Hitty,  who  grieved  at  having 
been  unable  to  procure  it.  Then  he  turned  to 
Rachel,  whose  questioning  eyes  were  upon  him. 
'"I  could  not  have  helped  him,  but  I  wish  I 
had  been  here  for  the  sake  of  the  others  —  for 
yours.  You  must  stay  here  no  longer.  It  has 
been  too  hard  for  you." 


3°O      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

Quivering  lip  and  trembling  hand  confirmed 
his  judgment,  though  she  faintly  smiled. 

"I  did  not  know  I  was  so  weak,  but  the 
storm  and  this  — "  She  left  the  sentence  unfin- 
ished. "These  children?  They  must  not  be 
left  here  alone." 

"They  must  not  be  left  here  at  all,"  he  said 
in  that  prompt,  decided  way  of  taking  the  mat- 
ter into  his  own  hands  which  was  such  rest 
and  relief  to  her.  Hitty  had  told  him  of  her 
brother's  absence  in  search  of  work — told  it  in 
few  words,  and  as  if  she  had  quite  understood 
his  going  —  and  that  she  scarcely  expected  his 
return.  "There  is  no  need  that  they  should 
stay ;  they  will  be  better  away,  and  I  will  send 
some  one  to  attend  to  everything  here,  and  do 
whatever  must  be  done." 

They  had  drawn  a  little  aside  for  this  con- 
sultation, and  she  glanced  at  Hitty  and  th'e 
little  ones,  feeling  that  Dr.  Kelsey  could  not 
know  the  network  of  circumstances  that  made 
it  so  difficult  for  her  to  offer  them  an  asylum. 


A  WAT  IN  THE  STORM.  3O1 

She  asked  her  next  question  anxiously : 

"  But  where  can  they  go  ?  " 

He  had  thought  of  it  all,  and  he  answered 
unhesitatingly,  — 

"  To  Mrs.  Shackles.  That  is  not  far,  —just 
beyond  the  wood,  —  and  the  little  girl  will  want 
to  be  near  enough  to  come  here  occasionally 
until  all  is  arranged.  Mrs.  Shackles'  home  is 
as  good  as  the  place  to  which  they  are  accus- 
tomed, and  it  is  not  enough  better  to  trouble  or 
embarrass  them.  Besides,  the  old  woman  will 
receive  them  willingly,  knowing  that  she  w.ill 
lose  nothing  by  it,  and  she  will  be  kind  to 
them.  She  is  an  arrant  old  beggar,  but  she 
has  one  virtue  not  always  possessed  by  more 
respectable  people  —  she  never  preys  upon 
those  who  are  poorer  or  weaker  than  herself." 

So  it  was  speedily  arranged.  Hitty  yielded 
quietly  to  whatever  the  others  thought  best. 
Dr.  Kelsey  closed  the  car,  and  with  his  car- 
riage packed  to  its  utmost  extent  —  since  he 
was  unwilling  that  either  Miss  Lyndal  or  Hitty 


302      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

should  remain  even  while  the  other  was  borne 
to  her  destination  —  drove  to  Mrs.  Shackles', 
and,  leaving  the  children  in  her  care,  hastened 
towards  Rachel's  home. 

Some  apprehensive  glances  he  bestowed 
upon  his  companion's  white  face  by  the  way, 
but  he  troubled  her  with  few  words  as  she  lean- 
ed back  wearily  against  the  carriage  cushions, 
trying  with  whirling  brain  and  throbbing  tem- 
ples to  lay  some  plan  for  the  coming  weeks. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

WHERE  TWO  ROADS  MEET 

^TT^HE  anxious  thought  was  useless.  In  the 
weeks  that  followed,  Rachel  could  do 
nothing  except  to  learn,  as,  sooner  or  later,  we 
all  do,  that  when  our  hands  are  most  full,  and 
our  work  seems  to  us  that  which  no  other  can 
do,  even  then  the  world  —  our  own  little  world 
—  can  go  on  without  us. 

The  events  of  those  perturbed  days  —  the 
anxiety,  fatigue  and  intense  excitement  —  had 
taxed  her  strength  too  heavily,  and  wrought 
their  natural  result.  She  struggled  bravely 
against  the  encroachment  of  weakness  and  dis- 
ease, saying  resolutely  to  herself  that  she  must 
not,  could  not,  dared  not,  be  ill  then.  But  it 
was  in  vain.  Nervous  chill  and  burning  fever 
conquered  and  held  sway.  It  was  a  slow  ex- 

303 


3°4      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

hausting  fever,  no  violent  illness  or  delirium  — 
for  that  she  was  inexpressibly  thankful,  as  she 
lay  a  prisoner  in  her  room.  A  wandering 
brain  might  have  proved  a  woeful  traitor. 

"Fiddling  Simon" — the  only  name  by  which 
the  town  had  known  old  Daddy  —  was  quietly 
but  decently  buried  by  the  proper  authorities ; 
and  as  Hitty  simply  stated  that  her  brother  had 
gone  to  look  for  work,  and  that  she  was  to 
remain  with  Mrs.  Shackles  until  he  sent  for 
her,  there  seemed  nothing  more  for  any  one  to 
do,  and  with  that  comfortable  conviction,  few 
questions  were  asked.  In  truth,  unless  some 
startling  disclosure  aroused  it,  suspicion  was 
very  unlikely  to  fall  upon  Joe.  He  was 
thought  only  awkward,  stupid  and  inoffensive 
when  he  was  thought  of  at  all,  and  that  was  so 
seldom  that  it  proved  an  entire  shield  now. 

With  Dr.  Kelsey's  advice  and  Mrs.  Shackles' 
assistance  Hitty  collected  and  disposed  of  her 
few  effects.  Rachel  learned  of  this,  and  of  her 
welfare,  as  she  gained  nearly  all  her  knowledge 


WHERE   TWO  ROADS  MEET.  305 

of  the  outer  world  in  those  weary  days,  from 
Dr.  Kelsey.  To  him  she  entrusted  some  com- 
missions for  the  child,  knowing  that  he  would 
accept  them  quietly,  without  the  explanations 
or  inquiries  she  dreaded  from  others.  If  he 
had  felt  any  surprise  at  her  visiting  the  car  on 
that  stormy  day,  or  at  the  deep  interest  she 
manifested  in  the  family,  he  revealed  it  by  no 
question  or  comment.  Sometimes,  watching 
him,  so  calm,  strong  and  kind,  as  he  made  his 
daily  call  upon  her,  she  was  tempted  to  confide 
to  him  the  whole  secret.  It  would  have  been  a 
great  relief  to  have  shared  with  him  her  burden 
of  solicitude  and  trouble,  to  have  had  the  aid  of 
his  clear,  manly  judgment.  But  the  thought 
that  the  story  might  prove  embarrassing,  that  a 
knowledge  of  what  she  had  done  would  make 
him,  in  some  measure,  a  sharer  in  the  re- 
sponsibility of  her  deed,  withheld  her.  There 
was,  too,  an  added  restraint  in  the  conscious- 
ness that  filial  loyalty  forbade  her  explaining 
the  causes  in  which  her  action  really  had  its 


3°    RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD, 

root.  So,  though  longing  for  his  aid,  she  was 
silent 

Once  she  ventured  to  ask  if  the  perpetrators 
of  the  attempt  to  destroy  the  shops  and  train 
had  been  discovered,  or  any  arrests  made. 

"  No,  not  the  faintest  clue  has  been  obtained, 
though  for  some  days  they  prosecuted  the 
search  vigorously,"  Dr.  Kelsey  answered. 
"  Interest  in  the  affair  is  dying  a  natural  death 
now,  and  it  will  probably  remain  always  a 
mystery." 

"No  news  is  good  news,"  runs  the  proverb, 
and  Rachel  comforted  herself  with  it  in  the 
absence  of  anything  better.  Joe,  unheard 
from,  was  probably  far  and  safely  away.  His 
dull  look,  and  habit  of  mingling  or  talking  but 
little  with  others,  might  be  a  safeguard  against 
robbery,  and  enable  him  to  reach  his  destina- 
tion with  what  he  possessed,  and  expend  it  as 
he  had  purposed,  she  thought,  growing  hope- 
ful as  time  passed. 

Weeks  elapsed,  and  the  disturbance  in  the 


WHERE  TWO  ROADS  MEET.  307 

town  and  throughout  the  country  had  subsided. 
Arbitration  or  compromise  had  settled  the  diffi- 
culty in  some  places,  in  others  there  was  at 
least  an  enforced  truce,  and  business  circles 
had  regained,  outwardly,  their  usual  quiet, 
before  the  invalid  was  able  to  leave  her  room. 
The  day  she  exchanged  her  narrower  quarters 
for  a  sofa  in  the  pleasant  rooms  below,  her  first 
visitor  was  Mrs.  Shackles.  The  old  woman, 
discovering  her,  made  certain  of  admittance 
by  availing  herself  of  the  open  door  without 
the  formality  of  knocking. 

Amused  by  her  rambling  volubility  concern- 
ing Humphrey,  the  berries,  and  the  world  in 
general,  Rachel  allowed  her  for  a  while  to  talk 
at  will.  But  when  Dr.  Kelsey,  whose  calls 
had  become  irregular  as  they  became  only 
semi-professional,  came,  she  dismissed  her  gra- 
ciously by  bidding  her  go  to  Peggy  for  the 
sugar  and  tea  she  had  intimated  "  was  wantin' 
dreadful  bad,  an'  no  prospeck." 

"  But  first,  how  are  Hitty  and  the  children  ?  " 


3°    RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

"Oh,  they've  gone.  Sakes  !  I  s'posed  you 
knew  'bout  that  or  I  a  told  it  first  thing," 
answered  the  old  woman  promptly.  "Went 
day  before  yisterday  —  to  Oregon,  mebby,  or 
Californy.  That  brother  of  hers  was  out  there, 
or  cousin  mebby  'twas  —  uncle,  or  somethin' 
or  nothin'.  I  don't  seem  to  tell  zactly ;  my 
membry  ain't  so  good  as  'twas."  She  eyed 
Rachel  furtively  as  she  spoke,  trying  to  dis- 
cover how  much  she  knew  about  the  children, 
or  whether,  possibly,  the  young  lady  might  not 
know  more  of  them  and  their  destination  than 
she  herself  could  tell,  even  if  she  told  all  she 
knew.  "  Anyway,  'twas  somebody  as  had 
worked  for  'em  an'  got  a  place  for  'em,  an' 
wanted  'em.  An'  that  girl  was  chirk  as  could 
be  to  go  —  no  more  'feared  than  'sif  she'd  spent 
her  life  a-travellin'.  She  said  Joe  wanted  her 
—  'clare  'twas  him  after  all !  The  letter  was 
so  mise'ble  mixed  up,  spellin'  an'  printin',  that 
'tain't  no  wonder  I  couldn't  get  it  afore.  Well, 
she  fixed  up  them  young  ones  till  they  looked 


WHERE  TWO  ROADS  MEET.  3°9 

like  a  log-cabin  bed-quilt,  an'  they've  gone. 
Wish  I  had  some  pieces,  an'  I'd  make  a  bed- 
quilt  myself,"  concluded  the  old  woman  reflect- 
ively. "I  could  do  it  between  berry  spells, 
an'  'twould  be  handy  to  have  come  winter. 
But,  dear !  I  hain't  got  no  patches,  an'  don't 
s'pose  I'll  get  none." 

"  I  will  think  of  that  by  and  by,  when  I  am 
stronger,"  Rachel  answered  ;  and,  satisfied  by 
what  she  was  sure  would  be  considered  a 
promise,  Mrs.  Shackles  departed. 

"Yes,"  Dr.  Kelsey  said,  meeting  Rachel's 
glance  as  they  were  left  together,  "  I  came  to 
tell  you  to-day.  Joe  sent  for  them.  Accus- 
tomed to  living  as  they  did  here,  his  preparation 
for  their  coming  did  not  require  much  time. 
As  nearly  as  I  could  understand  the  epistle  — 
it  was  mixed  up,  as  Mrs.  Shackles  observed, 
and  far  from  being  easily  deciphered  —  he  had 
possession  of  a  bit  of  land,  and  intended  to 
make  a  home  on  it.  Hitty  was  able  to  go  very 
comfortably,  and  she  will  carry  Joe  something 


310      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

besides  herself  and  the  twins — though  that  is 
considerable,  brave  little  woman  that  she  is  ! 
Strangely  enough,  poor  Daddy's  last  venture 
did  draw  a  prize.  It  was  no  great  amount,  — 
fifty  dollars, — but  it  was  a  fortune  to  her. 
When  I  had  secured  it  for  her  she  looked  up  at 
me  with  her  great  eyes  shining,  but  she  only 
said,  'Won't  Joe  be  that  glad  !'  She  left  her 
thanks  for  you,  and  has  gone  away  comfortably 
and  —  quietly." 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  glad  !  so  thankful !  It  frees  me 
from  such  a  burden  !  "  Rachel  exclaimed  with 
tearful  eyes.  Then  his  last  word  and  some- 
thing in  his  look  made  her  add  impulsively, 
"Dr.  Kelsey,  whatever  of  all  this  you  know  or 
understand,  I  am  glad  to  have  you  know,  be 
sure  of  that.  Do  not  think  I  trust  you  less 
because  I  tell  you  nothing  more.  The  secret 
is  not  wholly  mine." 

"  Do  you  not  think  I  trust  you  enough  to  help 
you  without  asking  why?"  he  said,  betrayed 
into  sudden  tenderness  by  the  trembling  voice 


WHERE  TWO  ROADS  MEET.  311 

and  the  sweet  uplifted  eyes.  "  It  is  more  than 
trust :  I  love  you.  O  Rachel,  I  never  meant 
to  tell  you  —  it  seemed  unjust  to  you  !  But  your 
generous  feet  would  not  stay  in  the  smooth 
bright  path  to  which  they  were  born,  you  were 
always  wandering  down  to  the  lower  and 
harder  highway  where  weary  and  burdened 
ones  travel.  If  you  will  choose  this  rougher 
path,  walk  it  with  me  —  my  darling  1 "  for  the 
fluttering  hand  slipped  into  his  and  rested  there. 
"Mine?" 

"Am  I  selfish?"  he  asked  again,  presently, 
as  he  sat  by  her  side.  "Think,  Rachel,  what 
my  life  must  be  — not  ease  and  luxury,  but  con- 
stant contact  with  pain  and  sorrow.  It  must 
know  toil  and  self-sacrifice,  while  yours  might 
be  so  different.  Seeing  this,  I  never  meant  to 
love  you,  but  how  could  I  help  it?  It  is  done 
for  ever  and  ever  —  " 

"  Amen  !"  added  Rachel  shyly,  with  flush 
and  smile.  Then,  after  a  moment:  "Why 
should  you  choose  nobler,  better  things  for 


312      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

yourself,  and  yet  consign  my  life  to  useless  ease 
without  allowing  me  a  choice?  Was  it  such  a 
stretch  of  charity  to  think  that  I  too  might 
esteem  other  things  of  more  worth  than  purple 
and  fine  linen?  " 

"My  darling  !  My  brave,  true-hearted  little 
Ray  —  " 

"  No,"  she  interposed  again,  hal'f  laughing, 
but  with  moistened  eyes,  "you  will  find  me 
weak  and  selfish  enough,  but  you  must  not  be- 
gin with  the  idea  that  I  am  to  be  carried  over 
all  the  rough  places.  I  will  walk  with  you,  and 
however  stony  or  hard,  I  want  my  share  of  the 
road." 

If  he  answered  with  kisses  on  the  bright 
hair,  on  the  pale  cheeks  that  grew  swiftly  rosy, 
and  on  the  little  hands  he  held,  the  knowledge 
belongs  to  her  alone  —  to  her  only  the  outpour- 
ing of  the  manly  heart's  long-repressed  tender- 
ness. For  Love  cannot  be  photographed,  — 
his  glowing  face  and  soulful  eyes  grow  dull  and 
lifeless  in  the  attempt. 


WHERE  TWO  ROADS  MEET.  313 

The  long  bright  hour  drifted  by,  sunlight 
and  leaf-shadow  falling  on  the  carpet,  and  in- 
visible fingers  weaving  them  into  ever  chang- 
ing patterns,  while,  seated  by  the  sofa,  Dr. 
Kelsey  told  of  his  work  and  his  life,  his  plans 
and  hopes,  and  Rachel  gave  in  return  the 
sweet  new  confidence  which  was  yet  so  perfect 
that  it  seemed  to  have  begun  ages  before.  It 
was  her  mischievous  suggestion  that  ended,  at 
last,  the  long  talk. 

"Have  you  but  one  patient  to-day,  Dr. 
Kelsey?  Your  practice  is  diminishing." 

He  laughed. 

"There  is  no  other  case  that  I  have  consid- 
ered so  critical.  Do  you  suppose  I  shall  ever 
know  enough,  hereafter,  to  go  about  my  work 
unless  you  send  me?" 

Then,  aroused  from  the  pleasant  dreaming 
and  planning  in  which  they  two  only  were  to 
be  consulted,  he  remembered  to  ask  the  not 
unnatural  question  : 

"  What  will  your  father  say  to  all  this  ?  " 


3X4     R ACHED S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

"I  do  not  know,"  she  answered  slowly, 
doubtfully  at  first ;  then  brightening.  "  But  I 
think  you  will  manage  that,  Horace,  as  you  do 
everything  else." 

He  smiled,  as  he  went  his  way,  at  the  rest- 
ful confidence  of  her  word  and  tone,  but  he 
was  the  stronger  and  happier  for  it. 

"For  if  she  so  loves  and  trusts  me,  she  is 
surely  my  very  own  by  a  law  higher  than  that 
of  mere  place  and  circumstance,"  he  said.  "  I 
was  right  to  tell  her  —  to  claim  her." 

A  rightness  Rachel  never  doubted.  It  did 
not  occur  to  her  —  it  could  not  to  any  woman 
who  truly  loved  —  that  there  was  any  sacrifice 
on  her  part.  His  love  was  her  life's  crowning, 
that  which  dignified  it,  and  made  it  more  sacred 
and  precious  than  it  ever  had  been  before. 
Whatever  Dr.  Kelsey  might  be  to  the  rest  of 
the  world,  to  her  he  was  the  embodiment  of  a 
wisdom,  strength  and  tenderness  in  which  she 
rested  confidingly,  and  to'  which  she  carried 
in  frank  trustfulness,  sure  that  she  could  not 


WHERE  TWO  ROADS  MEET.  3T5 

be  misunderstood,  all  her  dreams,  plans  and 
perplexities  — this  lonely  little  Rachel,  who  had 
never  known  mother's,  sister's  or  brother's  love. 
It  astonished  Annice  Lisle,  who,  her  visit 
somewhat  deferred  by  the  railroad  trouble  and 
Rachel's  illness,  came  later  than  usual.  She 
wondered  what  her  uncle  had  been  thinking 
of  when  he  permitted  such  a  state  of  affairs. 
Bonds  and  stocks,  probably,  as  usual ;  and 
there  was  no  great  choice  of  society  at  Craig's 
Cross.  But  then  Rachel  could  have  been  else- 
where had  she  so  chosen  —  and  there  was  Mr. 
Corry  !  The  whole  thing  was  incomprehensi- 
ble. Miss  Lisle's  own  delicate  hand  wore  an 
engagement  ring  now  —  a  solitaire,  valuable 
but  modest,  such  as  was  eminently  proper  for 
a  clergyman's  betrothed.  She  felt,  with  much 
self-approval,  that  she  had  herself  been  exceed- 
ingly unworldly  in  deciding  her  future,  though 
Heman  had  talent,  family,  wealth  and  kin- 
dred, desirablenesses  of  which  Rachel  had 
seemed  never  to  think.  There  must  be  some 


3*6   RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

renouncing  of  pomps  and  vanities  ;  it  could  not 
appropriately  be  a  very  gay  life,  that  of  a 
clergyman's  wife.  But  how  beautiful  to  give 
up  such  things  heroically  for  an  exalted  pur- 
pose !  In  her  cousin's  case  there  could,  of 
course,  be  no  such  compensation. 

"She  may  think  differently,"  said  Heman, 
who  had  arrived  for  a  few  days'  sojourn,  and 
to  whom  Nan  communicated  her  wonderings. 
"A  physician's  work,  you  know — well,  it 
might  not  seem  so  very  dissimilar." 

"  Heman  !  The  idea  of  comparing  the  life 
of  a  country  doctor,  selling  pills  and  curing 
fevers  for  money,  to  your  profession ! "  ex- 
claimed Annice  indignantly. 

At  which  remark,  as  it  floated  in  to  her 
through  an  open  window,  Rachel  softly 
laughed,  too  blessedly  content  to  care. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

"  TO  HAVE  AND  TO  HOLD." 

JUDGE  LYNDAL  was  certainly  not  pleased. 
*J  That  negative  scarcely  expresses  the  state 
of  his  feelings  as  he  paced  the  length  of  his 
library,  measuring  his  step  from  heart  to  heart 
of  the  roses  that  bloomed  in  the  carpet,  while 
he  pondered  Dr.  Kelsey's  proposal  for  the  hand 
of  his  daughter — a  proposal  made  in  a  quiet, 
matter-of-form  way,  with  no  evidence  of  tre- 
pidation, and  no  mention  of  her  wealth  and 
his  own  comparative  poverty. 

There  was  something  of  disappointment  in 
the  Judge's  first  emotion,  though  his  thoughts 
of  his  daughter's  future  had  never  been  suffi- 
ciently definite  to  assume  the  shape  of  a  plan. 
He  had  been  conscious  of  a  vague  expectation 
that  she  would  form  an  alliance  sometime,  and 

317 


3*    RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

that,  of  course,  it  would  be  worthy  of  her  posi- 
tion and  of  her  father's  house.  This  seemed  to 
him  not  fully  to  meet  these  requirements  —  in 
a  business  point  of  view,  not  sufficient  return 
for  the  amount  of  capital  invested.  If  Rachel 
had  been  a  son,  ambitious  hopes  and  schemes 
would  have  been  many,  and  any  thwarting  of 
them  keenly  felt ;  but  for  her  he  had  scarcely 
been  ambitious.  The  greatest  disappointment 
her  life  could  cause  him  had  been  experienced 
at  its  beginning  —  that  she  was  only  a  daugh- 
ter. Yet  he  loved  her,  after  a  fashion,  and 
showed  it  chiefly  by  allowing  her  to  pursue 
her  own  way. 

And  Rachel  could  not  run  railroads  nor  man- 
age corporations.  Whatever  alliance  she  form- 
ed, whether  she  married  or  not,  the  name  of 
Lyndal  must  cease  to  be  a  power  in  the  busi- 
ness world  when  his  own  busy  brain  and  skil- 
ful hands  were  removed.  Nothing  would  be 
left  of  it  all  except  the  fortune  he  had  amassed, 
he  reflected  somewhat  sadly ;  and  that  would 


'TO  HAVE  AND  TO  HOLD"  3I9 

be  Rachel's  in  any  case,  and  ample  though  no 
additions  were  made  to  it  by  any  matrimonial 
contract.  The  girl  might  as  well  have  her 
way,  after  all.  If  she  were  satisfied,  the  rest 
did  not  matter  much.  She  had  always  an 
unaccountable  fancy  for  quiet,  unostentatious 
places  —  and  for  persons  also,  he  supposed. 

Besides,  this  man  had,  so  far  as  human 
judgment  could  discern,  saved  her  life.  But 
for  him  he  should  have  had  no  daughter  to 
bestow.  Judge  Lyndal  smiled  rather  grimly 
at  this  verification  of  his  theory  that  all  favors, 
however  apparently  disinterested,  sooner  or 
later  demand  payment.  This  man  set  a  high 
price  upon  his,  surely,  but  it  must  be  paid. 
Through  all  his  resolving  of  the  subject,  the 
Judge  had  felt  that  underlying  consciousness 
—  the  one  conclusion  to  which  he  should  come. 
A  draft  upon  him,  to  whatever  extent,  must  be 
honored.  There  was  no  other  manner  of  liqui- 
dating this  debt,  that  had  come  in  this  unex- 
pected way,  as  he  had  prophesied  to  himself 


320      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

that  it  would  come  in  some  way,  for  payment. 
After  all,  because  of  that  bit  of  reflection  before 
mentioned,  he  became  not  wholly  unwilling. 

So  he  offered  his  hand  to  Dr.  Kelsey,  and 
with  it  gave  his  formal  consent.  But  he  could 
not  forbear  a  single  suggestion  of  the  full  value 
—  as  he  understood  it  —  of  what  he  was  be- 
stowing. 

"Knowing  and  respecting  your  character, 
Dr.  Kelsey,  there  is,  happily,  no  need  of  my 
inquiring  further  into  prospects  or  circum- 
stances. My  daughter's  fortune  will  not  be 
insignificant." 

If  Horace  Kelsey  winced,  it  was  only  in- 
wardly. A  smile  flashed  for  an  instant  under 
his  dark  moustache,  and  vanished  in  his  grave 
and  frank  reply  : 

"I  am  glad  of  it,  sir  —  for  her  sake." 

He  was  far  too  proud  to  say,  where  it  would 
not  have  been  understood,  that  he  loved  and 
sought  her  for  herself  alone,  and  had  she  been 
dowerless  he  would  have  been  even  more  exult- 


"TO  HAVE  AND  TO  HOLD."  321 

antly  glad  in  his  winning — though,  in  truth,  he 
combated  the  latter  feeling  as  being  less  love 
than  pride's  subtle  selfishness.  He  attempted 
not  the  slightest  explanation,  only  responded 
heartily  when  the  Judge,  who  liked  to  do  hand- 
somely whatever  he  did  at  all,  repeated  his 
acquiescence,  more  graciously,  with  expres- 
sions of  respect  and  confidence. 

If  Judge  Lyndal  considered  his  daughter's 
possessions  to  have  been  a  great  attraction, 
it  was  not  unnatural,  and  the  world  would 
think  as  the  father  did,  But  the  doctor's  brow, 
clouding  for  a  little  over  the  reflection,  cleared 
as  he  rode  on  his  way. 

"  It  may  think  exactly  what  it  pleases.  She 
is  well  worth  enduring  that  for,  my  peerless 
little  Ray  !  " 

When  he  recounted  to  her  the  important 
interview,  he  left  that  part  of  it  untouched  ;  but, 
with  the  intuition  by  which  she  so  often  an- 
swered his  thoughts,  she  said  quite  irrelevantly 
of  any  words  he  had  uttered,  — 


322      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

"There  was  more,  I  suppose.  Never  mind, 
Horace,  we  both  understand  it  beyond  all 
mistaking,  and  it  does  not  matter  about  others." 

No,  it  did  not.  He  was  quite  sure  of  it  as 
he  went  away  from  her,  with  some  words  from 
a  quaint  poem  running  in  his  thought : 

"Two  to  the  world,  for  the  world's  work's  sake, 
But  each  unto  each,  as  in  God's  sight,  one." 

Neither  did  Rachel  tell  him  quite  all  —  since 
there  was  no  need  —  of  a  long  conversation 
held  in  her  grandmother's  room,  when  the  old 
lady,  after  a  series  of  questions,  explanations 
and  arguments,  became  finally  convinced  that 
this  sole  daughter  of  the  house  was  not  formed 
in  the  mould  of  the  Warners  or  Lyndals,  and 
with  that  conviction  ceased  to  combat  the  inev- 
itable. After  all,  her  duty  done,  the  outlook 
had  its  comfortable  aspects  for  old  Mrs.  Lyn- 
dal.  Dr.  Kelsey  was  favored  with  the  close 
of  the  discussion  in  a  greeting  not  unkindly, 
but  sufficiently  stately  to  convey  a  suggestion 


"TO  HAVE  AND  TO  HOLD."  323 

of  the  eminence  to  which  he  was  to  be  ele- 
vated. 

w  One  favor  I  must  beg,  Dr.  Kelsey,  —  insist 
upon  indeed,  —  that  in  making  your  plans  you 
shall  not  take  Rachel  permanently  away  from 
us.  Why  should  either  of  you  wish  it?  You 
cannot  find  in  the  town  so  pleasant  a  location. 
The  house  is  amply  large,  I  am  growing  an 
old  woman  now,  and,  invalid  as  I  am,  Rachel 
will  be,  as  she  has  been,  virtually  mistress  here. 
Then,  with  Judge  Lyndal's  frequent  absences 
—  you  really  must  not  think  of  any  other 
arrangement,  at  least  for  some  time  to  come  I " 

It  was  not  what  either  of  them  would  have 
chosen,  but  in  those  happy  days  they  were  ten- 
derly considerate  of  all  old  ties,  and  the  point 
was  yielded  for  the  time.  Oddly  enough  —  or 
it  would  have  seemed  so  to  many  of  their 
acquaintances  had  they  talked  much  of  it  — 
among  the  pleasuring  of  the  bridal  tour  was 
planned  a  quiet,  restful  visit  to  the  plain  old 
farmhouse  among  the  hills,  which  Dr.  Kelsey 


324      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

had  once  described,  and  in  this  prospect  Rachel 
fairly  revelled. 

"  Do  you  know,  I  really  wanted  to  see  it  that 
night  you  described  it  to  Nan?"  she  said, 
"though,  of  course,  I  didn't  think  of  going  in 
this  way.  How  I  did  enjoy  that  evening  !  It 
was  so  queer  and  delightful." 

"A  little  out  of  the  ordinary  boundaries,  and 
you  are  inclined  to  be  lawless,"  the  doctor  de- 
clared. "I  enjoyed  it  too —  the  first  of  it." 

"You  grew  gloomy  and  solemn  enough  at 
its  close,  and  rode  away  with  a  romantically 
melancholy  and  majestic  air,  poor  Horace!" 
she  laughed.  Then  she  grew  grave  again. 
"  I  do  so  want  to  go  to  your  home  as  you  go  to 
it  —  not  visiting,  but  home,"  she  said  wistfully. 
"Can  I  really  do  it,  do  you  think,  Horace? 
Will  it  seem  so  to  me  and  to  —  them  ?  " 

"  You  will  like  my  mother,  I  know  —  the 
dearest,  truest  mother  a  man  ever  had  ! " 

"The  first  I  shall  ever  have  known,"  inter- 
posed Rachel  softly. 


"7Y>  HAVE  AND  TO  HOLDS'  325 

"  And  as  for  her  liking  my  wife  —  "  eye  and 
tone  completed  the  sentence  even  without  the 
words  which  were  added  later,  probably  upon 
due  reflection  :  "  Bless  your  brave,  tender  little 
heart !  How  can  she  help  it?  " 

In  proof  of  the  different  opinions  that  may 
be  held  upon  the  same  subject,  however,  Mr. 
Stephen  Corry,  reviewing  a  little  episode  in 
his  own  history,  was  at  that  moment  remarking 
to  himself,  — 

"After  all,  there  are  times  when  it  would  be 
exceedingly  inconvenient  to  have  an  exagger- 
ated conscience  for  one's  household  divinity." 

Who  can  tell  by  what  strange  ways  tidings 
travel  ?  Some  way,  the  word  of  this  marriage 
to  be,  reached  a  tiny  cabin  on  a  far-away  plain, 
where,  in  her  simple  housekeeping,  Hitty's 
face  had  grown  round  again,  and  Joe's  eyes 
had  regained  their  good-natured  content  as  he 
toiled,  day  after  day,  upon  the  little  place,  con- 
cerning which  he  exultingly  assured  himself, 
"  It's  better'n  workin'  for  folks.  Can't  be  turned 


326      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

off  noways ;  an*  ain't  them  twins  a-comin'  up 
hearty  ?  " 

There  was  another  question  that  he  often 
asked  himself —  "  How'd  it  'a'  been  now  if  she 
hadn't  'a'  done  it  ?  "  Sometimes  in  the  evening's 
quiet  rest,  when  the  moonlight  made  a  silvery 
path  through  the  open  doorway,  and  the  dron- 
ing of  insects  was  a  chant  of  peace,  or  later, 
when  the  small  room  glowed  with  its  cheerful 
autumn  fire,  the  comfort  of  it  all  suggested 
strange  contrasts,  and  he  asked  the  question  of 
Hitty,  "S'pose  she  just  hadn't  V  done  it, 
how'd  it  'a'  been  now  ?  " 

And  Hitty,  dropping  her  marvellous  needle- 
work in  her  lap,  answered  solemnly, — 

"Joe,  there's  things  do  be  worse'n  dyin',  — 
that's  how  I " 

This  word  which  reached  them  caused  many 
consultations,  that  finally  resolved  into  a  defi- 
nite shape.  They  wanted  to  contribute  some- 
thing to  the  grand  occasion,  and  it  must  be 
something  magnificent. 


"TO  HAVE  AND  TO  HOLD."  327 

"  'Cause  common  things  don't  be  fit  for  her," 
said  Hitty  ;  "  an'  common  grand  things  wouldn't 
be  like  nothin',  she  do  have  so  many." 

But  something  uncommonly  grand  was  dis- 
covered nestled  among  the  silk  handkerchiefs, 
slate-pencils,  pins  and  buttons  in  the  show-case 
on  the  counter  of  a  village  store ;  and  when 
once  the  admiring  eyes  of  Joe  and  Hitty  rested 
upon  it,  nothing  less  was  to  be  thought  of. 
They  planned,  worked  and  saved  to  purchase 
it,  and  night  after  night  for  weeks,  with  heads 
bent  together  over  the  table,  they  slowly  scrib- 
bled and  printed,  spelled  and  blotted,  in  the 
arduous  effort  of  producing  an  accompanying 
epistle. 

The  result  of  all  this  care  and  labor  reached 
Rachel,  on  the  morning  before  her  wedding, 
in  a  crumpled,  oddly  shaped,  curiously  ad- 
dressed packet,  at  which  she  gazed  wonder- 
ingly.  The  document  so  tediously  written  was 
slowly  deciphered  also ;  but,  through  much 
patience,  Rachel  learned  of  the  humble  little 


3  28      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

home,  its  welfare  and  content ;  of  how  the  gar- 
den had  flourished,  and  of  the  prospects  of  the 
small  farm  for  another  year;  of  the  prosperity 
of  Nip  and  Tuck,  and  of  how  Joe  meant  to  do 
his  "  level  best  "  for  Meg's  children.  It  told, 
too,  awkwardly  enough,  but  with  a  sincerity 
beyond  question,  how  they  had  counted  the 
days  in  their  anxiety  that  their  gift  should 
reach  her  in  time,  and  how  glad  and  proud  they 
would  be  to  think  of  her  as  "  a-wearin'  of  it  to 
be  married."  And  would  she  sometime  let 
them  know  if  she  did? 

Because  of  some  allusions,  and  its  suspi- 
ciously strong  expressions  of  gratitude,  Rachel 
dropped  the  missive  upon  a  bed  of  glowing 
coals  when  she  had  finished  its  reading ;  but 
.her  eyes  smiled  with  a  sweet  reverie  as  she 
watched  it  turn  to  ashes. 

"Horror!"  exclaimed  Miss  Lisle,  aroused 
from  her  usual  graceful  composure  into  posi- 
tive excitement,  as  she  espied  among  silks, 
flowers,  laces  and  gems  the  bracelet  that,  away 


"7-<9  HAVE  AND  TO  HOLD."  329 

on  the  plain,  was  considered  such  a  marvel  of 
beauty.  "Where  did  that  come  from?" 

"From  Western  friends  —  good  friends  of 
mine,  though  scarcely  connoisseurs  in  precious 
stones,"  answered  Rachel,  with  the  smile  still 
in  her  eyes. 

But  at  evening  she  slipped  the  trinket  on 
her  arm. 

"  That  gaudy,  brassy  thing,  set  with  a  bit  of 
blue  glass  !  Rachel,  of  what  are  you  think- 
ing ?  You  surely  will  not  wear  it  ?  "  questioned 
Annice  in  astonishment. 

The  girl  looked  at  it  wistfully. 

"  It  will  be  but  for  a  few  minutes ;  it  will 
harm  no  one,  and  it  will  give  so  much  pleasure 

—  somewhere.     See,    Nan,    this   fall   of  lace 
nearly  hides  it." 

It  did,  indeed,  like  an   exquisite   frost-work 

—  a    delicate    tracery    of    vines     and    leaves, 
through  which  only  an  occasional    gleam  of 
the  obnoxious  ornament  was  visible.     Annice 
said  no  more,  but  she  surveyed  again  the  toilet, 


33°      RACHEL'S  SHARE  OF  THE  ROAD. 

perfect  to  its  minutest  detail  of  ornament,  clasp 
and  bow,  in  which  she  was  herself  to  appear 
as  bridesmaid,  and  meditated. 

"  How  can  she  ?  It  is  not  so  much  what 
others  would  see,  as  knowing  it  myself,  that 
would  trouble  me.  It  is  the  sense  of  fitness 
through  and  through  that  marks  the  perfect 
lady.  The  thought  of  wearing  anything 
cheap  or  false  at  my  bridal  would  be  positive 
pain  to  me." 

But  to  Rachel  that  circlet  was  not  so  incon- 
gruous, and  it  brought  a  thrill  of  grateful  glad- 
ness as  she  caught  a  glint  of  its  doubtful  gold 
through  the  fineness  and  beauty  above  it.  It 
did  not  make  less  tender,  true  or  strong  the 
hand  she  gave  that  night,  and  the  memory  of 
the  words  which  had  accompanied  it  added 
depth  to  many  of  the  more  elegant  congratula- 
tions showered  upon  her. 

All  this,  however,  was  but  one  little  episode 
of  the  occasion  —  a  slender  thread  whose  weav- 
ing in  and  out  was  invisible  to  those  who 


"TO  HAVE  AND  TO  HOLD."  33 1 

beheld  the  grand  whole.  For,  notwithstanding 
the  earnest  preference  of  both  Rachel  and  Dr. 
Kelsey  for  a  more  quiet  marriage,  the  Judge 
had,  in  great  measure,  his  way.  The  old 
house  bloomed  into  a  splendor  that  called  forth 
admiration  and  some  envious  sighs,  with  not  a 
few  spoken  and  mental  assertions  that  Dr. 
Kelsey  was  a  fortunate  man.  And  he,  look- 
ing into  the  clear  eyes  uplifted  to  his,  called 
himself  more  than  fortunate,  even  blessed. 
But  he  knew,  as  no  other  could,  what  had 
been  and  would  be  Rachel's  share  of  the  road. 

Mrs.  Shackles,  watching  the  gleaming  lights 
from  afar,  did  not  forbid  the  bans. 

"S'pose  there'll  be  less  chance  to  sell  'em 
motherwort  an'  boneset,  with  a  doctor  in  the 
fam'ly  so ;  but  then  there'll  be  one  more  to  eat 
the  berries.  Don't  know  as  I've  any  objec- 
tions, Humphrey  Shackles." 


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